


All the pretty (blue) horses

by oncewewerezombies



Series: Homesmut fills [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Background Relationships, Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Happy Ending AU, IN SPAAAAACE, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pegging, Pesterlog, Praise Kink, Secret Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Xenophilia, bitty bit body horror, discussion of helming, light fear play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 79,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/pseuds/oncewewerezombies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a mixfill of two prompts!</p><p>Prompt 1: Jane/Equius - She's a classy blue heiress, he's probably resilient enough to survive surprise dominatrix mode, it could work.</p><p>Prompt 2: Sharp dressed man, Equius Zahhak<br/> <br/><i>Gold watch, diamond ring</i><br/><i>I ain't missin' not a single thing</i><br/><i>And cufflinks, stick pin</i><br/><i>When I step out I'm gonna do you in</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>They come runnin' just as fast as they can</i><br/><i>'Cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man</i></p><p> </p><p>Equius Zahhak in some very nice clothes, getting undressed later by an interested party and preferably ridden hard to be put away wet. Possibly even at the party in some secluded alcove. C'mon, you know that the boy would be fiiiiiine in a tailored suit. </p><p> </p><p>And then it exploded on me and turned into an actual fic, god damn it. Stay tuned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The generic non-sburb/sgrub AU where everyone is alive and mostly happy even if not mentioned specifically, Feferi successfully 2x3dented her ancestress in a succession duel and instituted her version of culling as much as she could in aggressive Alternian culture, the rebellion became the ruling power and both species get along, for a given value of get along.

==> Be the sweaty blueblood in the tuxedo.

Your name is Equius Zahhak and you are out of your depth at social events.

It isn’t difficult for someone like you to feel uncomfortable here, despite the cool colour of your blood. You’re surrounded by graceful people in beautifully fine clothes, who all seem to be completely at ease. It didn’t seem to matter if they were human or troll at this celebratory event that had been arranged to mark the date of the alliance between the two species, both elements appeared to be meshing well with each other, no awkwardness jamming the gears. There is still a need for some diplomacy in close quarters, which is perhaps only to be expected when one species had so recently tried to obliterate the other...the humans had proven to be a more cunning enemy than the previous Empress had anticipated, and the current Empress had seen a tool that she could use to great effect.

This is one of the reasons why Her Ascendant Beneficence is now the one wielding the power of the Alternian Empire in new kinder and more socially equitable ways, and in a matter of political expediency had been handfasted into a diamond quadrant with one of the humans. You hope that the Empress is not finding it too difficult to be in pale with one of these strange aliens and that she is having her conciliatory needs met adequately, but then, you suppose that not everyone can find as serendipitous a match as you and Nepeta have. Although she is currently on patrol as one of the securihunters assigned to maintain the safety of all the party goers, even just thinking of her stills the anxious tremors in your hands a little.

You are withdrawn into a corner, hands carefully folded into the creases of your elbows as you observe how easily everyone else seems to speak with each other. With the softening of traditional roles that had also accompanied the new Empress’ rise to power (inevitable with the support from the warmer half of the hemospectrum that she had obtained, with the low blood types of the personal hatefriends who had fought alongside her every step), you have no idea how to interact even with the other trolls, let alone the aliens in your midst.

You have always been wary enough of touching other trolls, and with the humans, you are even more afraid of damaging their fragile bodies by accident. Your STRONGNESS is a benefit in battle, and although you never managed to use a bow successfully and become an Archeradicator, you have proven yourself worthy in other ways. You are now the Engineer and your tinkering with robots and other feats of biomechanical craftstrollship have gained you a respected place that is quite beside your previous connections with and support of Feferi Peixes. Your b100 blood is not quite as important as it once was either. You are respected on the basis of your work, and that is...important to you.

Your invitation to this event still struck you as contrived, and you had not planned to go but Nepeta had insisted. The memory of that back and forth argument almost makes you wince visibly even now; but the gift from Kanaya of the clothes you are currently wearing had tipped the balance towards your attendance. You could not spurn such a thoughtful present once she had made the effort to send them all the way from the brooding caverns on your mutual homeworld. Or disrespect the Empress’ wishes in sending you the invitation in the first place; although you are sure that Her Ascendant Beneficence has much more important things to do than remember an awkward blueblood like you who had hardly interacted with her at all, really, and that the invitation was not personal and more likely just given to you by a bored flunky inviting anyone who seemed that they had once been involved in the rebellion in some way. If you have been invited, you are sure most of the others have been.

Clothes have never been very important to you (nor are they are to any troll except the jadeblood as far as you can tell), and currently you feel enclosed and a little trapped by the cloth around your legs and arms, the hard shoes on your feet, but Nepeta had said that the outfit was very flattering to your post-second pupation height and broad shoulders, even if it is in the human formal clothing style. That has become a fad recently, and you can see other trolls in similar outfits. This helps you to feel a little more at ease, that you have not done something wrong or out of place by wearing it, despite the clamourings and insistence of the two greenblooded trolls who had meddled their way into controlling your outfit in the first place, and it seemed like they had been correct that it would be completely appropriate to wear.

You are wearing what Kanaya has told you over Trollian is a ‘tuxedo’, a formal clothing arrangement that consists of a stiff jacket and long pants made primarily out of a soft black baabeast weaving but with soft spidersilk sewn into the undersides where it comes into contact with your undergarments. Underneath the suit, you are wearing a white shirt and your waist is wrapped with a length of cloth in your blood colour; you feel uneasy about not having your sign emblazoned across your chest as would be your usual practice. However, Kanaya had conceded slightly and it is subtly worked into the fabric of the ‘cummerbund’ as well as both your bowtie and the ribbon holding your long hair back and out of your eyes. The interlocking cuff-connectors had your sign in your colour engraved into their silver surfaces, and it is these little things that let you feel like you have not betrayed yourself too much.

How long is long enough to stand here and watch other people enjoy themselves or at least successfully interacting with each other before your moirail will not scold you for leaving early? There is not much for you to eat, as a lot of the delicate little bites of food circulating on large nutrition offering planks are meat-based. You have nibbled at a few things, but even if there had been more choices available, you probably still wouldn’t have eaten much. Milk is not one of the drinks on offer, although there are different sugared beverages circulating along with the alcohol that humans drink, seemingly to excess. Maybe if you had a drink, you would feel more at ease...but if you do not trust yourself sober to always handle things with care, you will absolutely not trust yourself intoxicated. Also, the glasses seem to have been built quite finely even if there are a variety of sizes to fit highblood, lowblood or human grasping frond. You do not want to draw attention to yourself by shattering a drink receptacle by gripping it too hard, or to ruin the jadeblood’s hard work by damaging the tuxedo by getting anything liquid on it and perhaps staining the cloth.

You have always had an appreciation for properly made, well crafted things. It may not have been your first choice of clothing to wear, your assumption had been that you would be wearing your formal black uniform as an enginihilator officer of Her Ascendant Beneficence’s navy, but even with your unfamiliarity with fashion you can recognise fine work when you see it. You still wish you had been allowed to wear your uniform, but Nepeta had said it was too boring and made you look too forbidding. You appreciate your moirail’s efforts to make you more outgoing, but you really wish she would find some other part of you to improve.

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

AC: :33 < *AC surveys CT from her position in hiding!*  
AC: :33 < *AC is concerned that the noble stallion is not enjoying himself at the party*  
AC: :33 < *AC suggests that CT should have something to drink and mingle a little*  
AC: :33 < maybe one of the humans is interested in robots too! but you’ll nefur know if you dont talk to them 

You wish sometimes your moirail had never convinced you to upload Trollian into your lightblocking lenses so that you can chat to her even when you are away from husktop or palmhusk, or just unable to use your hands to type. At least it is someone to talk to, you suppose, and it does get quite boring just watching other people enjoy themselves. You unfocus your eyes slightly and start to reply, letting your implanted neurogrub uplink fill in your lines of deep blue underneath your moirail’s olive green.

CT: D --> Nepeta  
CT: D --> You should be concentrating on your duties as a securihunter  
CT: D --> I am fine  
CT: D --> Do not concern yourself with me or my activities  
AC: :33 < rarrgh! i mew you would do this  
AC: :33 < i mew it  
AC: :33 < equihiss you could have fun at this purrty if you tried  
AC: :33 < just go talk to someone  
AC: :33 < youll nefur see the humans again so it doesnt matter if you mess up talking to them  
AC: :33 < try it!  
CT: D --> No  
AC: :33 < yes!  
CT: D --> No  
AC: :33 < yes!  
CT: D --> No  
AC: :33 < yes!  
CT: D --> No  
CT: D --> As your moirail I insist that you return to your duties at once  
CT: D --> This argument is ridicu100s  
CT: D --> And you should be taking your job more seriously  
AC: :33 < i take it just as seriously as i should!  
AC: :33 < besides i am fur from the only securihunter working right meow  
AC: :33 < i can take a mewment for my meowrail  
AC: :33 < no one will mind  
AC: :33 < and you need someone to kick you in the butt!  
CT: D --> Nepeta I am perfectly fine  
CT: D --> I demand that you cease this conversation immediately  
CT: D --> Before you get into trouble for not foalfilling your prescribed duties  
AC: :33 < this is not what i was hoping would happen  
AC: :33 < at all  
AC: :33 < :((

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

Maybe when this is over, you will apologize to your moirail for not being able to fulfil her hopes for your beneficial acts of social interaction. It may take more than just words. Perhaps you will need to buy her some small thing that showed how much you appreciate her efforts to make you a better troll, even if it does not seem like you do sometimes. You do not want her to think that you only buy her presents to make things up with her either, those are not your intentions at all. But you do enjoy it when she’s so pleased over the little thing you have found or made for her. Her smile is one of the best things you ever see in your life. Maybe your other quadrants remain unfilled on a permanent basis, but it matters little to you when your diamond has been filled so perfectly.

“Well, if it isn’t one of my main motherfuckers. I didn’t know you were all up and gonna be at this party, bro.” A large hand slaps you on the back and if you weren’t so STRONG, there is every chance you would have stumbled forward. As it is, you rock a little and grimace. Turning your head to look up at the slouching purpleblood is unnecessary to identify him; that drawling mess of obscenity coming from the taller troll’s mouth could only really have belonged to one of your acquaintances. “What are you doing in the corner over here like this? Get some motherfucking Faygo down your chute, that shit is miraculous and you look like you could use some miracles to bring a smile to your fucking face, blue bro.”

“Highblood. It is. Good to see you too.” When you were younger, you fantasized that perhaps you felt black for Makara. He was, and is, such a terrible example of a highblood. But with time and maturity, you have stopped wanting him to be what he is not and it is...nice...to have someone besides Nepeta who seems to enjoy your company. On the rare occasions you see him, at least. He is busy with his religious duties, and you have your own concerns – you are rarely on the same ship, but you do still sometimes contact each other over Trollian. You are aware of what the other hatefriends of your small group thought of you; it does not concern you that they do not contact you at all. It does not. You do not mind. You have Nepeta. “I must decline the offer of the beverage, however...”

You use your hand to divert the Faygo bottle he is trying to press on you and despite your loathing for the mutantblood, you are still momentarily glad to see Vantas stomping up. The offspectrum troll had profited from his moirallegiance with the clown and his assistance to the Empress in her takeover bid; it had kept him alive and Peixes had removed his name and blood colour from the culling lists as one of her first Imperial actions. Still, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as he glares at you with those crimson eyes and you are glad for the smoked lenses hiding yours. He is so...ostentatious about his blood colour now, when he’d previously had the decency to be hemoanonymous. It is vile. Disgraceful. You can’t stop your lip from curling in distaste.

“...Vantas.”

“You can stop sounding so pants-shittingly glad to see me, Zahhak you fucking snob. Any fucking time now, I am in ever increasing _fucking_ anticipation of you ceasing to lick my boots at my arrival. It’s getting harder to hide the indigo stain.” The sneer he bestows on you make your hands twitch slightly; never have you been so glad to see your moirail fall out of flush feelings for someone (at least, she has told you that she has, and your moirail would not lie to you, you are fairly sure). The mutant may have been a daring leader of various groups during the rebellion, and you would not disparage his fighting skills as they are quite high, but he is not what you would pick for your moirail. You remember entirely why you feel so much platonic hatred for him now that he’s opened his mouth and you are no longer even slightly pleased to see him. “Well? Got your slobbering hemocastist tongue far enough out of my moirail’s highblood nook that you can speak now?”

You rear back a little in disgust at his imprecation and gross language, and you hold onto the rest of your hard earned poise with a STRONG grip. Throwing him through a wall would not be an acceptable use of your STRONGNESS, no matter how satisfying. And it could be taken as an admission of caliginous feelings, and you do not feel such things for an offspectrum abomination.

“Your mouth, as ever, is disgustingly lewd and profane in its descriptions,” your lips twitch around the word mutant, before you go on to say heavily instead, “ _Vantas_. I would appreciate it if you did not use such language in my presence.”

You can see that he knows exactly what word you’ve refrained from saying by the sneer that exposes his hideous overbite even more, and why you would not now put the same order to stop using lewd language to the Subjuggulator standing easily beside you both. You also would not insult a highblood’s quadrant mate in front of them, and Makara is far from the bumbling sopor-eating fool he had been pre-Ascension. He could remove your head with a swipe of a club, and maybe he would be sad about it afterwards but you doubted that Vantas would stop him from doing it. Stop him from culling anyone else, but not you. There’s too much (entirely platonic) loathing on both of your halves of this equation.

“Commodore Vantas to you, _captain_ ,” he says with a razor-edged grin, and the corner of your eye twitches behind your shades. You’re starting to sweat, you can feel it, and you fumble in your inner jacket pocket for the handkerchief you’d put there, since you could not bring a towel. Gamzee seems faintly worried, and you wonder if it’s for you or his moirail that he’s concerned. Probably you; you would never strike a superior officer and Vantas does have rank on you, as you have just been reminded. You really would have preferred that he hadn’t done that. It is obscene, the things the Empress has done for him.

“Hrrk. You. Yes, Commodore Vantas.”

Olive text starts filling in across your glasses and you almost groan. Not now! Nepeta must still be watching you in the vain chance that you would broaden your social circle. You nurture a futile hope that she will be content with a small reunion instead.

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

AC: :33 < karkitty! ooooh say hello for me equihiss!  
AC: :33 < they look like theyre purrty happy together  
AC: :33 < gamz33 got tall in second pupation look at those horns  
AC: :33 < i wonder who else is here   
AC: :33 < furferi of course and ampurra  
AC: :33 < miaowbe terezi?  
AC: :33 < im going to s33 if i can find the majestic dragon  
AC: :33 < maybe we can catch up our rolepurrlay!

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

Patting at your forehead carefully with your mini-absorbency plane, you wipe away the sweat and cough gently, getting Gamzee’s attention back onto you as he swipes a calming long-fingered hand through his shorter moirail’s hair to Karkat’s audible and vociferous disgust. You had always thought of Gamzee as the one requiring the most pacification in their relationship but you wonder now if you are wrong. The mutant almost vibrates with rage on a constant basis. It must be difficult, but the highblood seems to be quite content with his abomination of a moirail.

“My moirail wishes me to convey her greetings to you both,” you say lamely, hating that you can not abscond from this conversation just yet. But to not pass on what Nepeta had given you would be wrong. She trusts you to do things like this and they are really not a bother. Not usually. Being civil to the mutant tests your resolve. “She is pleased that you both look well.”

“Ha! Where the fuck is Nepeta hiding then? Guess this really is a reunion of the rebellion,” the mutant says almost gleefully, and you are immeasurably glad that she will not be able to attend the festivities in any way suddenly even if you had been previously desirous of her company. You want to keep Vantas as far as possible from your moirail. He is not worthy of her. You really wish she would find someone else to set her concupiscent affections on, someone more suitable and preferably of a shade close to yours. “Well. The coldblooded parts of it, at least. Fucking disgrace, the warmer half of the hemospectrum came over to Feferi’s side faster than the colder part, but hey, look at all the snotnosed assfucks who are actually here and being fêted. Violet, purple, indigo, maybe cobalt if they’re fucking lucky to be quads with some highblood bulgelicker.”

“She is here as part of the securihunter detail and will not be mingling with the guests,” you answer stiffly, and you lick your lips. Your mouth is dry, and you are trying not to sweat through the clothes Kanaya has made you. His disdain of highbloods is perhaps to be expected, but it is still disquieting. “She is currently looking for Pyrope, in case the tealblood has managed to obtain an invitation.”

“Lawsis made good, did you hear? She’s a motherfucking terror of the court block, like we all knew she motherfucking would be,” Gamzee puts in, and then jerks his head towards a cluster of humans. How does Makara even know about Pyrope’s career progress? Perhaps every one else had kept in closer contact than you had thought. Maybe it is only you who has not. “You can’t keep propping up the ceiling support like that, bro. Come and join the motherfucking party – it’s not as bitchtits as one of the ones we throw down on ship, but yanno. These humans are some pretty wicked motherfuckers, you should get your chatter on with a few.”

You know he doesn’t mean it as an order, but you can’t stop yourself from following along anyway. It sounded like one, close enough. Vantas sneers at you a little more, but he seems to realise that things will start to seem a little caliginous if he continues so he doesn’t verbally needle you any further. When it came to romance at least, Vantas has usually conducted himself with more decorum than his behaviour in other areas. You do not know how he managed to get through the pre-Ascension drone season or with who, and you do not want to know. Nepeta and yourself had managed with temporary partners attached to the rebellion in some way and you would dearly love to block the entire thing from your memory. It had been...not what you would have wanted either for your moirail, or yourself.

With his usual total lack of regard, the Subjuggulator inserts himself and his moirail into the human group and you make a valiant effort to escape while he’s distracted but warm fingers close softly around your wrist and you hesitate. If you pull away, you could hurt...her? You think this is a human female, she is wearing a dress at least and is exhibiting the secondary sexual attributes that religious art has told you to expect from female mammals. They are very evident with the low drape of the dress she is wearing, especially since it has no sleeves or top to it and seems mostly to be held up by binding tightly around said secondary sexual characteristics.

Fiddlesticks, you’re starting to sweat again. Her long dress is a most brilliant blue and so are her eyes behind the oval shapes of her personal-vision enhancer lenses, her hair is trollish in colour even if her skin is a soft warm brown and not the adolescent grey or adult near-black of your own species. She looks...STRONG, solid and dependable. Her grip is not as weak as you would expect as her fingers move up to wrap around your arm and ensure that you do not abscond. You are fascinated despite yourself. Why does she care if you leave or not?

“I’m glad to see you’ve joined the festivities, you looked so gosh darn bored standing over there by yourself, and I was trying to think of some way to pull you over but it looks like mister Makara has managed that without me needing to meddle,” she says cheerfully as she smiles at you. As she finishes her little welcoming speech, she trails off into a soft rounded series of chuckles that you find unexpectedly striking. Your eyes shift and glance sideways, trying to spot your moirail for some emotional support instinctively but you make yourself relax despite not seeing her. As you expected to see nothing of her and you still need to fulfil your social duties now that you have been detained. “My name’s Jane. Jane Crocker.”

“...Equius Zahhak.” You take her hand with its clawless fingers gently, carefully in yours in the traditional human handshake. Every troll here had undergone some schoolfeeding on what was considered acceptable in human culture, on some small practices that were meant to make the aliens feel welcomed among trolls. Or at least that their concerns, their thoughts as the Human Federated Alliance were considered important by the leadership of the Alternian Empire. You will do your best to fulfil the expectations that have been placed on you by interacting peacefully with this one. You are striving to remember your Earthian now that you are talking to one of the aliens, and not to give offense accidentally by muddling your words. Their throats could not quite manage the clicks and trills of basic Alternian, but trolls could speak their language quite well if they tried; it had become the language that both races used to converse. “You were...watching me?”

“Hoo, hoo, yes. I’m sorry, does that make me seem like a little bit of an unwholesome rapscallion? I was admiring your suit!” She is still holding onto your hand, and you have no idea how to pull away. Or if you even want to. She seems so determinedly cheerful that it reminds you a little of Nepeta but not. “It is quite the fetching outfit, you know, mister Zahhak.”

“A friend made it for me,” you murmur, not sure what else you can say. Her hand is warm around yours. Warmer even than Nepeta’s, but it is not uncomfortable. The top of her head with its curled black hair barely comes up to the top of your chest. Friend is the right word, you think, for Kanaya. It is strange to think that in Earthian, friend and enemy are different words and mean different things.

“Friends are a darn good thing to have. Aren’t they?”

Her smile is what you believe you should classify as wicked, and her teeth may be blunt but they are rather pronounced at the front and you think they could bite quite hard. “The Alternian Empire and Her Ascendant Beneficence are always pleased to be considered friends of the Human Federated Alliance and its leaders, miss Crocker,” you venture hesitantly, sure that she must be one of the leaders or close to one. Such a beautiful blue colour could belong to no one less than important. You are of course aware that all of the humans bleed the same red, just the same as a mutant, but. It is a lovely blue she is wearing (it complements her eyes).

“That’s a pretty formal way to put it, Equius! I can call you that, can’t I?”

“I, uh, yes, if that is your preference.”

“And then you must call me Jane.” Her smile is brilliant, and she takes your other hand in hers. Her grip is warm and firm, with a quiet STRONGNESS that you can not deny. “C’mon. This is meant to be a party. You know how to dance, right?”

“I, that is, not...well.” You do not stop her from guiding you onto the small dance floor. It is mostly humans, trolls not truly having dance as an art form but there had been an effort from high command to ensure that officers in the Alternian forces could manage a few steps in order to be able to negotiate formal Earthian rituals. You believe similar steps have been taken on the human side of things, particularly in response to caliginous romance so that a human does not initiate pitch sentiment with a troll by mistake. Suddenly, you are glad for the enforced lessons, when you had seen them as a waste of time pulling you from your robots and engines before this moment. “I believe the step that I am most familiar with is called...waltz?”

“Swell! Then we can take it slowly in a few turns around the dance floor, and still gab on and get to know each other a little better.” You are aware that you’ve been cut out from the crowd without hesitation by this Jane Crocker like a pronghornbeast being pursued by a wild cholerbear and you have no idea why. One of her hands moves to your shoulder and you hesitantly put your partnering hand midway between her hips and her shoulder, rest it easily on her back as you hold the other. At least this dance made some sort of sense, it is a series of three timed steps that are repeated four times in a box-shape and then again and again, and the gentle pressure of Jane’s fingers on your wrist help you negotiate around the other dancers. “So, what do you do, Equius?”

“I am an enginihilator officer in the Benefice’s fleet,” you answer shortly but with a series of soft, gently pointed questions she drags more information out of you. More about you, your thoughts on your work and how you find it pleasing to work on things that are not just weapons of mass destruction but genuinely useful to trolls in other ways, but you also spend a good amount of time talking about the importance of a functional moirallegiance to trolls in general, particularly those of a higher blood type. Like yourself. As always, you are quite content to talk about Nepeta at least in general terms, but there are some things that do not leave the pile and are kept between moirails.

“I can see that you love her very much!”

You blush bright blue across your cheeks and stammer something apologetic as you try to duck your head but not toss your horns, something submissive and not aggressive in nature. Have you implied that human culture is deficient in some way for not having the diamond quadrant of romance? You have always felt some sort of pity for them in that they did not, the same way you felt a strange pang over any troll who had not found a moirail, serendipitous or not. You do not want to offend her, and you so often offend so many people. Sometimes it is even on purpose.

“I, that is, Nepeta is very important to me, and I-“

“No, no, don’t worry your head about it. We don’t have moirallegiance in human culture but I think it’s a pretty neat idea. I can see why Alternians would need it. I don’t think I mentioned I knew Gamzee from the war?” she continues, and you want to wipe a towel across your face and down the back of your neck. She knew the highblood? The twist to her smile is somewhat aggravated and fond at the same time. “It was much easier to deal with him when he’d been in closer contact with Karkat, hoo hoo! I never minded the rabblerousing and rassling part of our kismesissitude, that was pretty fun, but he gets downright sulky when he can’t hear from Shouty McGee.”

Although you had managed to control your surprise when you heard that the human dancing with you had known the highblood, you have to release your grip on her hand and back immediately when you hear that she had been in a kismesissitude with the purpleblood. Otherwise, you might have done damage you hadn’t meant to do. Your control has been hard won and you have no reason to hurt Jane. It has been a long time since you have hurt anyone accidentally, and surprise is not a good enough reason to break that record.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m really most dreadfully sorry.” You almost bolt from the dance floor, and then just keep going out of the room and through the crowd, not running but moving quickly. You need a moment to collect yourself. And leave. You are leaving. You can not do this. You are going back to your machines and your robots – you should never have come. You are an embarrassment. As Vantas would say, you can not stop yourself from being a gross, sweaty fuckwad of a blueblood no matter the situation. It is not surprising that the only one who can really tolerate you is your moirail.

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

AC: :33 < equihiss!  
AC: :33 < where are you going?  
AC: X00 < equius! get back here!

centaursTesticle [CT] has blocked  arsenicCatnip [AC] !

You find a public ablutionblock a few turns of the ship corridors away from the formal confabulation chamber and slip inside it, pressing your mini-sniffnode wiper to your face, temples and then your throat. Taking the jacket off, you try to stop your blue sweat from damaging too much of the white shirt by patting at yourself with a simulacra-vegetative absorbency plane you find in an extruder on the wall, untying the strip of cloth at your throat and unbuttoning a few of the small buttons so you can breathe. One of them you thumb open too hard and it pings off haphazardly to ricochet against a wall, making you wince. Ohhhh... _heck and darnation_. You can only hope that a seamsteripper will be able to mend it.

You are not sure why hearing that Makara had taken the Jane Crocker human into his black quadrant has affected you so STRONGLY but you are in considerable sweating distress.

Trolls taking humans in their quadrants wasn’t unheard of in the aftermath of the war, although few trolls wanted to try and settle into the one dimension of human romance. A troll in an official quadrant with a human has special exemptions for filling a filial pail for that quadrant but it has to be proven to be a true and proper relationship before the Imperial amnesty is bestowed. It shouldn’t be surprising that Makara had done so with one of the Human Federated Alliance officers, the highblood had spent quite some time with the human forces at the peak of the rebellion. But to hear that he had taken a human in his _black_ quadrant...that was. It. It was so perverted. You had also not thought that a human would be able to stand up to the physical rigours involved in a typically trollish kismesissitude.

Pausing with a square of disposable absorbency plane pressed to the underside of your chin, you consider the way her hands had felt on your skin. Jane’s grip had had a certain STRONGNESS to it, and she must have been able to meet the highblood on a physical level or the kismesissitude wouldn’t have lasted past the first pitch flirtation. You wonder what it was that they had been able to be rivals _about_. She had seemed to be a very calm and understanding sort of person, but pitch strikes just the same as flushed – where it wills, depending on the trolls involved. Or human and troll, it must be supposed.

The door to the public ablutions block opens, and you stiffen in alarm like a startled hoofbeast. You are in considerable disarray, your jacket discarded and shirt open, you’ve dragged your claws through your hair and you have a towel pressed to your sweating face. There is a heap of the blue-stained simulcravegetative absorbency planes on the bench next to you, and you sweep them into the trash receptacle hurriedly. If it’s someone of lower blood than you, you can just tell them to leave. You hope desperately that it is not someone you know. Unless perhaps it is Nepeta? You have never blocked her on Trollian before, and you are aware that there is probably a very long feelings jam in your future to talk about what happened and why you did it. You do not think you will mind; it might help you understand _why_ such a statement about a hatefriend (even a hatefriend you had tried to induce into a quadrant once) and someone you have never even met before caused such a STRONG response.

It is not your moirail.

It is Jane.

_Fiddlesticks_.

“Miss Crocker, I really must ask you to leave,” you manage to stutter out in what you hope is recognisable Earthian. Your fingers slowly twist the disposable absorbency plane you are holding to shreds of blue-stained white pretendacloth, fluttering to fall to the ground. _She is not leaving._ Maybe you were not understood? You take a breath, and attempt to ask her to vacate the hygiene block _again_ in possibly more understandable Earthian and without the distressed click from your squawkbox you know you are making, so she will leave you alone to recover some small shard of your dignity. “Miss Crocker – mm!”

Her mouth is on yours and it is so _warm_. You are actually not sure how she managed to do that. You press back into the row of sinks in shock and hear it crack, your eyes as wide as the moons behind your shades. What is she doing? People do not kiss you; you are not a kissable troll. That was made perfectly clear in your previous essays at pailing; you undertake the bare minimum with some other unfortunate lacking in concupiscent quadrants in order to escape automatic culling by drones, and that is all. There is no kissing.

“I remember telling you to call me Jane,” she murmurs, and you are barely breathing. Her front is pressed against yours, and her fingers walk their way up to the top of your thorax to rest against the exposed triangle of skin between the undone sides of your shirt. She is completely unafraid, despite the fact that she is a human and you are a troll that she has managed to corner. Your hands are trapped between both of your bodies, still wrapped in remnants of simulacrawoven absorbency plane. “You really are a gosh darn mess, Equius.”

Oh. _Oh_. That is one of the most romantic things you think anyone has ever said to you, and your pusher aches a little. She can’t mean it that way, you are sure that humans don’t truly feel romantic pity from the little you read. But then...she has felt some kind of passionate loathing for Gamzee in the past, so perhaps she does understand a little. You try to control your breathing and stop it from being so loud to your own auricular clots; you can not bring yourself to say anything.

“I’m going to take your shades off, ok? Let me know if it makes you too uncomfortable. I know human ships can be a little bright for some trolls, but I want to see your eyes properly while we natter,” she continues, and leans up against you, her breasts (fatmounds? No, you’re sure you remember the term correctly) pressing against you and you try to breathe even more shallowly as she uses both hands to remove them from your face. You blink and it’s not too bad, but now you really have no way to contact your moirail and you only thought you were out of your depth before. Now you are sinking to fathoms beneath the surface and you have never been able to swim.

“I know this is a little forward of me and I’m sure you think I’m being quite the scandalous hussy, propositioning strange trolls in the men’s room, but, I almost feel like I know you already. Or at least enough to have an idea about you.” She hooks your shades into the V made by your open shirt, and she is still smiling at you as she laughs that soft series of hootbird chuckles. You are just as she described, a gosh darn mess. You are a disgrace to the Empire. “Gamzee talks a lot about the trolls he knows, he’s really quite the loquacious sort if you can be bothered to get through his disgraceful language. Is it as bad in Alternian as it is in Terracommon?”

“Y-yes, I think you could say so,” you manage to wheeze, despite the fact that you are still unable to breathe in any sort of normal fashion. You are even responding in Earthian! You feel like someone should be giving you a gold glitterbiscuit of congratulations for managing anything complicated like that in this situation. “He uses the most lewd language on an unfailing basis. Ever since we were young.”

“He honestly is the most vile failclown. Hmm. Anyway, I’m getting off track, I want to concentrate on _you_ right now.”

“Hrrk. I. This is not proper. You must not.”

Her smile really is wicked and you wonder how you ever thought that humans were not really predators at all. You are the baabeast wiggler in this situation, it is you. “Was that an order, Equius? Are you trying to give me an order? I don’t think you should be giving _me_ an order.”

“Ohhhh, my.” Your knees feel almost weak as she speaks to you so sternly, and you swallow hard. You are truly glad the only thing between your fingers right now is cloth because anything of worth would be crushed. Is this pitch or flush? It can’t be pale, she was far too respectful and interested in Nepeta and just not the sort of person to break up a firm quadrant, you are very sure of that, and there is no third so it’s not ashen. “ _Jane_ , I don’t understand.”

Your voice is unfairly plaintive for a troll of your age, rank and blood colour.

“You seem like a person I could stand getting to know,” she says cheerfully up into your face, like her hand isn’t currently wandering along your side and grazing your grubscars. You shudder and feel a chirr starting to build in your throat, but you swallow it back down. “The things Gamzee and Karkat said made me feel kind of sorry for you! And then I didn’t realise that the Equius that the clown kept mentioning was the handsome mountain of troll pretending he was part of the wall before you introduced yourself, or I would have come over sooner. You should try to get out more, you’re a pretty good conversationalist, you know.”

“I...am glad you feel like that,” you say slowly, and you swallow again. Your throat is very dry, and you are sure you are sweating like a hoofbeast. It must be disgusting for her. You’ve been told often enough that it is. “But I still don’t understand.”

“I’m always getting told I need to explain things better. I rush in on over the top of people, and it’s not always so clear to them as it is to me.” Her hand finds a long lock of your escaping hair and pulls your head down a little. It’s like she’s pulling on the reins of a hoofbeast and you swallow hard again, you can’t even pretend that you could stop the soft rumbling mating trill that rises up in you when she does that. Her eyes kind of soften, and you’re breathless waiting for her next action. You want to put yourself in her hands. Those soft, capable STRONG hands that she has. “I wanted to see if you’d try a flushfling, if that’s alright with you. Only...”

“Mm?”

You feel almost...pacified. But it’s different. It’s eager, it’s waiting. You’ve never felt like this before one of the mandatory drone pail filling sessions. You have never felt. Anything like this before.

“I heard you like taking orders; do you think it would be so bad if you took _my_ orders?” Her finger prods your chest, and you shiver. She might have the soft vulnerable skin of a human, but she is certainly not weak. “You know humans don’t have the hemospectrum? I don’t have a right to tell you what to do; my blood is as red as Vantas’s.”

“Yes, but. You are most explicitly _not_...him.”

“So you’re quite happy to do what I tell you?”

“Yes. Assuredly.” Her fingers find the curve of your jaw and she rubs a heated thumb along your cheek, but it’s not a pap and it doesn’t feel pale. Your shoulders relax further all the same, and she’s still smiling her bright, toothy smile. You are doing the right thing, and that’s reassuring. You might be floundering, but she’s willing to keep you afloat at least a while longer.

“You can tell me to stop, if I’m doing something you’re not enjoying or want to think about. It’s a human thing for situations like this, it’s a word that means no, but isn’t no. Sometimes it can be fun to say no and not mean it! What’s a good word for you, Equius? Something you’re not likely to say when we’re pailing.” You know the word doesn’t have the same emphasis for humans, but you’re very aware of the renewed sweat running down your face. She is just so briskly and no nonsensely _lewd_. Practical, yet intoxicating. You think you like that. “Maybe...diamond?”

“Diamond would be acceptable.” It’s not a word you would ever think about in the midst of flush, or anything concupiscent. If you say it, you will be in distress. And from what she said, that is what the word is for.

“You can say it any time. And I’ll stop. Promise.” She picks up your sunglasses again and slides them back onto your face using both her hands, runs her thumb over your lower lip and you shudder. You probably shouldn’t trust her. If she was a troll, you wouldn’t. But you _want_ to. She is trusting you with your sharp fangs and claws near her soft skin, even with your broken horn and that one missing fang on the right that had never grown back despite second pupation. And that is one of the first steps towards pity. “Put on your clothes and tidy yourself up a bit. We’re going to my rooms.”

“As you wish.” You pick up your jacket, slide your arms into its sleeves and let it cover the worst of the stains that have sprung up along your sides and your back. But when you go to fasten the buttons near your throat and do up the bowtie, she takes over and does it for you. You’re glad; fine work with your fingers always becomes exponentially more difficult when you’re nervous and your anxiety now reminds you of the worst days of your adolescence. “I’ll, uh, let my moirail know she’s not to worry. I just need to contact her; I have an instant messaging program I can access on my shades so it should be completed shortly.”

“Oh yes, don’t want to let her fret,” and you offer her something like a smile in response to her own and then allow your eyes to relax. Your moirail is not going to be happy with you, and you really hope this doesn’t take long. It is quite strange for you...somehow, things have turned out alright.

centaursTesticle [CT] has unblocked  arsenicCatnip [AC] !

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling  arsenicCatnip [AC]

CT: D --> Nepeta  
AC: :33 < *AC pounces furiously on her moirail!*  
AC: :33 < *the strong stallion has left the furrocious purrbeast very worried!*  
AC: :33 < *she nips his ear very hard with her big white fangs! both sets!*  
AC: :33 < hisssssssss!  
CT: D --> Nepeta, I am sorry  
CT: D --> I was overwhelmed  
AC: :33 < thats what im fur you know  
AC: :33 < when youre overwhelmed is when you need your moirail the most  
CT: D --> I know and you are a very good moirail to me  
AC: :33 < i am the best moirail and thats all there is to say about it!  
AC: :33 < but you have to let me help you when you need it equihiss  
AC: :33 < i was worried about you  
AC: :33 < are you ok???  
CT: D --> I am fine  
CT: D --> Quite fine  
AC: :33 < oooooh equihiss  
AC: :33 < is this something to do with the blue human?  
CT: D --> Um  
CT: D --> Yes, I suppose it is  
AC: :33 < h33h33 i knew it!  
AC: :33 < i will have to update my shipping wall  
AC: :33 < i told purrezi and karkitty that thats what it was!  
CT: D --> Nepeta, no, do not continue to make a100sions to that wall of nonsense  
CT: D --> I thought we had agreed that you would not make a new one once we left the planet  
CT: D --> I will not allow it  
CT: D --> Nepeta no  
AC: :33c < nepeta yes!  
AC: :33 < pitch or flush?  
AC: :33 < and i wont expect you on the first shuttle home but dont miss the last one  
AC: :33 < although since youre the chief enginihilator i supawse the absolutism purrably wont leave without you  
AC: :33 < but i will make sure it waits for you even if i have to bite someone  
AC: :33 < your first lieutenant is furry suspihiss about how she’s planning to continue her career pawgression  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Thank you, Nepeta  
CT: D --> And, I believe...flush?  
AC: X33 < 3333333333333333333!!!  
AC: :33 < im so excited  
AC: :33 < shipping wall here i come!  
CT: D --> Nepeta, I do not want to be put on your ridicu100s wall  
CT: D --> I am sure miss Crocker would agree with me  
CT: D --> Nepeta, it is not something serious, you will halter right now  
AC: :33 < h33h33! 

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

You let out a heartfelt little groan as your moirail leaves the conversation, and Jane laughs. “Well. She’s not going to worry about where I am any more,” you say weakly, and you let Jane pull your face down for another kiss. This. You could get used to this. Her mouth is warm and soft, and she seems to actually _like_ you. Pity you. Even if it is only something short-lived, it is more than you’ve ever had in the way of actual flush feelings from someone.

You remember your first awkward flushcrush on Aradia Megido and you want to squirm, you want to die, you were so. Creepy. Nepeta told you and told you that you were being weird and wrong, and you acted as though the burgundy blood should have been flattered that anyone higher than ochre or a very yellow olive would even consider her as a matesprit. As though she should have been grateful. That is not the grounds for any proper kind of pity, and even though you built the extensive prostheses that allowed her to survive the maiming that Vriska had set Sollux to inflict on her, you should not have pressured her the way you did. You absolutely deserved the way she scorned you. Every part of it. The fact that she was even willing to speak to you afterwards was more than you ever had a right to expect.

It is not surprising that you haven’t heard of her since the rebellion ended and the need for communication between the two of you has ceased to exist. You suppose that she found someone else to manage her robotic implants. You hope that they continue to serve her well; you certainly haven’t heard of her death, and Nepeta would let you know if she had been passed a message from one of the others of your adolescent clade on the subject. You are still sorry; it took a long time and a lot of feeling jams with Nepeta for you to understand that you should be sorry and that what you had done was wrong. But sorry doesn’t fix how you tried to insert a control program into her prostheses and make her pity you.

“Good. Then let’s hop to it.”

You are quite content to follow the female human, and you can only hope you don’t look too dishevelled as she leads you through chrome corridors to her quarters. Thankfully, you meet no one. By the size of her private block when you arrive, she is quite high up in the command structure and you relax further as the doors slide shut behind you and lock you both in. If you have to, you could probably punch through a wall and escape but you hope you won’t have to. You hope that this is really pity, even if it is of a transitory nature. That you are opening up your vulnerable parts to someone who won’t use the moment of trust to eviscerate you. Some of the humans still hate trolls, and that seems like a reasonable reaction to have when the previous Alternian Empress had tried to wipe out the entire species.

“From experience, I know trolls get very _messy_ in the bedroom.” She taps her fingers against her lips and smiles; you melt a little. Flush slightly at her implicit reference to the copious amounts of slurry an adult troll can produce, and try not to think of just how she knows it. “Take off your clothes, mister Zahhak. You can put them in here.” She opens a cupboard set into the wall of her reception block and gestures inside. You do just as you are told, and endeavour not to damage Kanaya’s gift further.

Jane is just watching you, leaning against what seems to be her nutritional support in this first block of her space inside the ship. Your fingers fumble, hesitate and you take a deep breath. Continue to obey your orders; you have always been good at it if you could get any to follow. Each layer comes off slowly and you fold it, place it gently inside the drawer she has opened for your clothing. You are almost naked, with just the knee-length stockings with supporting garters wrapped around your thighs and your underwear still on when she makes a noise, a hiss. You pause, with your thumbs hooked inside the waistband of your briefs, and look enquiringly at her.

“Let’s leave those on for now.” You’re watching her, and her cheeks are flushed, you think. It’s hard to tell the nuances of human expressions sometimes. But you believe she is pleased with you. With what she sees. You do have a STRONG body, despite being in what is now really a desk job. You still make an effort; it would not be pleasing to you to have your body respond to you sluggishly. “But put your glasses in with the clothes. I want to be able to see your expression properly while we’re having fun.”

Fun? It’s hard to think of pailing as fun, it’s just been a mandatory and vaguely distasteful event that you have had to comply with on a regular basis for all of your mature life. It’s always been needful, but not what you would call enjoyable beyond the meagre relief of the physical release. You have a feeling that this is about to change.

Lifting one hand, you remove your shades and place them carefully on top of your clothes. Close the drawer. She claps her hands together happily, and then turns around. “Follow me, big guy.” It’s only a few steps but it feels like miles as you follow her from the first room to the second, with its...absurdly large concupiscent platform. Oh fudge. You’ve really started to sweat now. “And now we’re in here...you can undo the zipper and get me out of this torture device. I don’t know, do trolls have the saying, beauty is pain?”

She turns, presenting her back to you and bending her head with its mop of curled hair slightly so you can be sure to see the tab of the zipper at the centre of the top of the dress. You step forward again, and take the small thing in one careful hand. If you did not pity her in this small way, you could have removed her top vertebra with one swipe of your claws, it is an immensely vulnerable position she has put herself in around you. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax. And slowly pull it down. The blue material splits open on either side of her spine, revealing more of that dark brown skin, soft and pliable with no sign of carapace. No armour. And these minute hairs that you find _fascinating_. The zipper goes straight down, until she wriggles out of the rest of it and steps away from the puddle of dress you’ve let fall to the floor and you’re on your knees. It was the only way you could pull the zipper down to its end; you were just too tall to stay standing.

“Oh man, that feels just too good,” she sighs, rubbing her fingers along her sides and then twisting her hands up above her head, stretching. Her undergarments are also a beautiful blue, with little frills of lace and bits of ribbon decorating them in judicious places. She walks to the concupiscent platform and sits down on the edge, reaching behind herself to unhook something and then throws her heftsack holster to one side. Her breasts are quite different to a female troll’s defined rumblespheres or even your own modest ones. They flow differently, move oddly and are capped with wide circles of darker skin. She just looks so _soft_. It should not be arousing; it is. “How ‘bout you stay on your knees and come here and take my shoes off?”

“I. Yes, Jane.” You creep forward on your knees and she puts her first foot in your lap so you can do what you have been told. It is a disturbingly intricate lacework of straps formed around the arch of her foot and you dither over it uselessly for a moment before starting to undo the little hole and spike closure in the straps that holds the whole mess where it should stay. The shoes are heeled, and you are made aware of the fact that she is actually even shorter than you thought. Smaller. More pitiable.

“Hey. Look at me.” You look up obediently, your broad hand cradling her foot as you set the shoe to one side with the other and she reaches down to rub a hot thumb around the sensitive hornbed of your broken horn. You chirr helplessly, eyes closing for a moment on her delighted smile. You can smell her arousal now that you’re this close to her, and you know that your bulge is starting to unsheathe behind the barrier of the underwear you’ve still got on. This is not pale, it is most definitely _flushed_ and red as hearts. “Oooh, look at _that_. Big strong blueblood down on his knees for lil’ ole me.”

Her fingers are so _warm_ , she’s so _hot_ and it feels so, so good. You’re crooning, almost purring, a slow deep rumble from deep inside your abdomen and you have never felt like this with any flushfling you have ever had. They made you feel dirty, disgusting, ugly, _lessened_ by their forced pity, and she sounds so pleased with you. You have barely done anything. You don’t know what you have done to have this happen, and you know you do not deserve it. You have made so many mistakes. You are a disgrace.

“You’re doing _just_ fine, sweetheart.”

Oh. Ohhhh. That is. So nice. You can feel the blood rising to the surface of your face and you must be bright blue across your cheeks but you could stop that as much as you could stop sweating. The nape of your cartilaginous skull-support must be wet, slick at the roots of your mane and she hasn’t stopped touching you nor has she taken her foot from your grip, and that must be just as bad. Oh. Her toes twitch against your hand and you hold yourself stock still, not daring to move one bit.

“Other shoe now,” she murmurs, and you recall yourself as she removes one foot and places the one still enlaced in its spike-heel walking platform into your palm instead. It is easier to undo the fine straps on this one; it is the same as the first and you have already successfully undone this closure once. You ease the shoe from her walking stub and set it besides its mate, her fingers coiling around a lock of your hair. You think this is what being intoxicated would feel like, if you ever indulged. Staying like this would almost be preferable to being pailed, with this quiet feeling of worth. Value. You feel valued.

“Equius, you doin’ ok down there? You’re being pretty quiet!”

“I am. Ok? Yes. Jane, I am feeling extraordinarily well.” Her hands stroke and pet softly, running your long hair through her fingers. No matter how damp with sweat it is, how your perspirations must be staining her soft brown skin with traces of blue, she plays with your hair and rubs a thumb round first one hornbed than the other. You swallow hard. She is human, and the highblood has both of his horns intact...she might not... “Please...be careful of the broken one? It is. Sensitive.”

“Oh, of course. Mmhmm.” Her fingers trace the shape of the intact one and you sway, feeling almost dizzy as she outlines the blunted point of the arrowhead with a careful fingertip. Your throat is bared to her as she tilts your head back by her grip on your horn, and you wonder if she _understands_ how this is affecting you. The deep thrum of something that is almost a purr continues to shiver through your body, and your eyes are barely open. You can just see her face as she looks down at you. “Troll horns are always so fascinating to me. You don’t mind, do you? I’ll get to some more exciting stuff in a minute...although you’re looking kinda excited right now...”

Her soft hooting laugh comes from her mouth again, and you nod slightly because it’s true. Your bulge is moving lazily against the inside of your briefs, partially unsheathed and staining the pale fabric with darker marks of blue. “Please, may I remove my undergarments?” you murmur, voice hoarse but trying to be respectful. You don’t want to ruin them completely. And you will, if this goes on. You would like to be able to wear them out after this is finished, protect the more valuable leg coverings that Kanaya has made you even if it means baring yourself more. You are disgraceful, so lewd and you can’t stop.

“You know what, I’m going to let you do that thing. Stand up.” She withdraws her foot and you do as you’re told. You stand and put one hand to one of the clasps of the garters holding your knee-length stocking up. “Noooo. I didn’t say you could take those off, bo.”

“M-my humblest apologies.” You flush, mortified that you have misstepped and refasten the clip before sliding the underwear slowly down your hips. You are blushing, sweating and you can not lift your eyes to hers. Her gaze is like a caress on your skin and you are both mortified and excited. She takes the marginally stained cloth from you and throws it haphazardly over with her own discarded clothes. You feel foalish, and you don’t know whether to go back to your knees or what you should do; in a tremor of indecision you remain standing.

“I want you to put your hands behind your back,” the human in front of you orders, and you obediently do so. Wondering what she is doing, what she is planning. You are lost, you do not know what would possibly need to happen for you to say no to her. When there are orders, you know exactly what to do. You follow the orders, they are calming and reassuring. Something firm closes around one wrist and tightens, you move your head slightly in surprise, trying to classify the sensation. “Now, you and I both know, you could get out of these in a jiffy! All you’d have to do, really, is flex.” One wrist. Second wrist, the same enclosing feel of soft fur and gradual tension until both wrists are encircled firmly. You test it; you can move your hands so far and no more before there is the slightest feeling of push back. “I will be miffed if you break my only set of cuffs, mister Zahhak! Sooo...don’t flex. You’ll have to be careful.”

“I will try.” Your wrists are held together behind your back, but as she said, they are not really a barrier or a restraint. The only thing holding your STRONGNESS back is your unwillingness to disappoint her. “I am very STRONG,” you tell her, almost meek as her fingers trace up your forearms from the cuffs, a ticklish sensation. You feel your skin twitch.

“Mmm, I’m aware. And here you are, obeying a weak and puny human. Putting all that...strength under me.” Her arms enclose you, hands pressing against your rumblespheres and you think the side of her face is pressing against your back. You are sweating again, a light sheen of blue over every defined muscle, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s laughing, but you don’t feel like she’s making fun of you. “You’re gonna do just what I tell you to do, buster! And what’s more, I think you’re gonna love it.”

“I. _Yes_. Order me.”

It would be an order itself, if it wasn’t for the desperation you can hear in your own voice. Her hands are rubbing over your skin and chitin plates slowly, obviously exploring the difference between your two species. Even your skin is tougher than hers, evolved to be hold up against troll claws and fangs. If you even pressed gently one tip of a claw against her yielding skin, you are sure it would rupture and give up the bright red blood inside like some kind of sweet foodglobe. And you’re letting her tell you what to do. It is the strangest sort of pity you’ve ever felt.

“You betcha your bottom dollar that’s just what I’m gonna do, hon.” She comes around in front of you, stands with her feet apart in a STRONG stance. Her arms are folded underneath her breasts, and she is completely unlike just about any troll you’ve ever seen in every inch. She holds herself like an Empress, curves and softness of her body not withstanding. “So get back down on your knees.”

You fall into a kneel in front of her, and it’s like you’ve been stunned.

“Look at me.” You look up and her thumbs are hooked through the strips of blue lace at her hips. Slowly, slowly, she moves her hands down, bringing the scrap of fabric with them and exposing the last inches of her skin that you haven’t yet seen. Odd patches of dark curling fur where her bulgesheath should start, under her arms, but she’s an alien. She’s other. You can’t stop staring, you want to touch each inch of her body, this alien warmth and see if the odd silky texture of the palms of her hands is continued anywhere else on her body. Maybe on that curving roll of her stomach with the odd little dip in the centre of it. You’re still not entirely sure how this is going to work, but it must because she knows what she’s going to do with you. A soft croon escapes your mouth as she throws the blue bit of soft material to one side and then sinks her fingers into your sweat-drenched hair. “You’re such a good boy. You’re so _good_ at following orders. Just look at you; you’re so needy for me but you’re staying right where I’ve told you to be.”

Your bulge is fully unsheathed now, leaving trails of blue against your thighs and your stomach and breathing is an unsteady proposition. “Yes. Jane. Jane, _please_.” You want to be good, you want to hear her tell you that you are. You have to restrain yourself from clenching your fists or moving your hands, the least amount of movement could break the fragile restraints she’s placed on you. If you hadn’t fought so long for control, you would have snapped them apart already. For a human, you’re sure that they would prove to be quite a barrier but you contain much more STRONGNESS than a human ever could. Than most trolls. You wonder if these things work on Makara, with his highblood strength or if he has the same struggle you do not to break them.

She tilts your head back by your intact horn and you can feel trickles of sweat gliding down the sides of your face. You don’t even want to think about what you look like. How desperate. Sweaty, panting, and your eyes are bare and exposed. “You’re going to put that tongue to some better use than words.” With the other hand, she spreads the soft folds that are something like the entrance to the nook underneath the patch of black fur covering where her bulgesheath should be outlined in that soft tender brown of her skin. “Lick here, _gently_. Especially here.” She points out a soft rounded nub at the top, nestled safely between what looks like velvety skin.

“I could hurt you.” You hurt everyone. You hurt your lusus, you have even hurt Nepeta with just one misplaced spasm of your fingers, and they both always forgave you for it. But you do not want to do the same here, and you know that you could hurt her terribly with what she is asking you to do. Irreparably. As good as your neural uplink with prosthetic limbs has become, you are quite sure that this you could not repair or replace with robotics.

With your mouth? This is so depraved. But then, you suppose that there won’t be any viable pails from this pairing, it’s completely impossible. She’s an alien, not a troll. You think that is a shame, in some vague rational corner of your mind. Her genetics would be an admirable contribution to the general incestuous slurry that the Mother Grub imbibes to produce the eggs that spawn new generations of trolls. Giving pleasure to her with your mouth won’t matter, you can’t taint slurry that isn’t there to taint.

Her grin is brilliantly wild and fearless.

“But you won’t hurt me! I know you won’t, I’m trusting you, Equius. C’mon, this is something humans do all the time. You’re not disobeying an order, are you?”

“Hrrk. Ah. No. No, I wouldn’t disobey a direct command.” You shuffle closer on your knees as she stands over you and hesitate a moment more, trying to calm yourself before laving your tongue between her spread fingers. She makes a tiny ‘ah!’ sound, pleased, and you shiver as her grip tightens in your hair. Pulling at the roots as you start to lick, starting with broad strokes that make her purr. Or something close to it, she doesn’t have the same vocal equipment as a troll. You take it as a pleased sound, however.

She certainly doesn’t stop you.

The taste is unfamiliar, different to anything you’ve ever tasted before. Sort of sharp, musky. The patch of what you thought was fur is really more a wiry kind of hair, your nose nudges it, discovering the sproingy nature of it as your long tongue explores parts of her anatomy more intimately. You try to be as gentle as you can, using your tongue on her alien nook, paying more attention to the pleasure nub as her fingers tighten and release. Guide you in your actions to bring her pleasure. Every ounce of you is concentrating on gentleness, softness, barely letting your tongue touch her. It seems to be enough and you’re not hurting her. You purr.

Her hands grab and twist, her body stiffens as she moans loudly and your chin is slick. Not to the pailful of slurry that a troll would produce but enough that you are aware of your face, your throat, your mouth. Your curling tongue and the taste coating it. A warm beat of pride throbs inside your chest and you gasp as you’re pulled off, pulled away. Her hot hands soothe and stroke the sides of your face and you stare up at her as she smiles at you, one hand going to your shoulder as she trembles a little in the aftermath.

“Hoo boy! That sure was a kneetrembler, you’re not bad with your mouth at all. Didn’t I tell you that I knew you’d be careful? No damage done.” She swipes her thumb over your chin, and then brings it up and her own dark pink tongue darts out to lick it clean, and you forget to breathe for a moment as you watch her. “I want to put you down on my bed now. You think you can stand up?”

“Perhaps a little help?” you suggest, the way your hands are bound together behind you makes you worry about falling. She nods, and uses both her hands to help pull you to your feet, keep you steady so you don’t react instinctively to catch your balance and break what she’s placed on your wrists, disobeying your orders not to ruin her toy. The grip of her hands on your upper arm show you that she has more STRONGNESS than you would associate with a human and you let her guide you to the bed. You feel almost dazed, the way you would in a really good pile but it is coloured red and pulses with mating fondness, not conciliatory pity. Sitting as she pushes you backwards to the concupiscent platform, you sit as the soft edge hits the back of your knees and she crawls into your lap, putting her hands together behind your neck.

She kisses you over and over, gentle mouth pressing against yours and swallowing each sigh as your bulge twists lazily against her thighs and knees. You have to be making such a mess, and the thought brings more sweat trickling down your temples, but she doesn’t seem to be revolted. Her tongue snakes its way into your mouth and you freeze, wary of your sharp teeth and her vulnerable parts. She just laughs against your lips, and continues to kiss you just the same way until you are returning it however hesitantly.

Her hand goes down between you both and strokes your bulge; you groan and she bites your lip. Hard. “Jane, Jane, please,” comes out of your mouth in a moment of weakness and she bites your jaw. The little pinch makes you trill, chirr, sounds that you’ll be embarrassed you made later but you’re losing every word you know. Not just in Earthian, but in Alternian too. She’s driving you mad and you have to remember at every instance, not to pull your hands apart so you can touch her as well. You will be good; you will make her proud of you. Your head is dizzy and your nook is leaking, you can feel the slow cool slide of material down the inside of your thigh and you must be staining the soft cloth you’re sitting on. When you stand, there will be more than sufficient evidence of your amorous disgrace.

“We’re getting to it, buster.” Your bulge is lashing against her hand, and you let your forehead drop against her shoulder as she manipulates it with her hot fingers. You croon helplessly as she plays with you, one hand on your bulge and the other on the arrow-head of your unbroken horn. Your sweating face is hidden against her skin, she’s letting you pant and bare your fangs against the soft dark skin of her throat, she’s letting you, she’s oh how she’s touching you. “You’re being very good, not complaining at all that I’m taking too long! You’re very patient, Equius. You’re being _so_ good for me.”

“ _Jane_ ,” you moan, and it sounds broken as she wraps your hair around her fist and _pulls_ , the radiating pain spreading across your scalp as you resist for a moment and then let her pull you away. Your mouth is gaping, you’re not entirely certain that you’re not drooling and your chirp is wretchedly high and loud as she finally feeds your bulge into the heated embrace of her flesh, into where you had your tongue inserted earlier. She’s watching your face with a pleased smile and you feel so _exposed_ , you’re not considered an attractive troll by most. The feel of sweat gliding down your back, your neck, your face, and you know your eyes look almost bruised underneath from the weight of the bags that your lack of sleep brings you to, you know what you are.

But she not only chose you, she sought you out more than once. The thought does something strange in your pusher and you shudder all over as you’re finally fully sheathed inside her and she’s biting her lip. Those pronounced front teeth are digging down into the sweet curve of her lower lip, and this time you kiss her first. She lets out a pleased sound and you’re sure you did well as she starts to rock her hips in your lap, her knees pressing firmly to the outside of your thighs and the weight of her STRONG body pressing down against you. Your toes curl inside the silk of the stockings she’s asked you to keep on and you gasp, chirr as she moans.

With her hands on your shoulders, the pointed tips of her breasts brush the slight curve of your rumblespheres and she directs your head downwards with one hand. “Use your mouth on them, gentle though,” she says breathlessly, and you comply. Clumsily taking the pointed tip between your fangs, you suck and feel a weird thrill as she moans out more directions, more orders on how to please her best. Your bulge is deep inside her, moving in slow coiling rhythms and your hands clench behind your back as you concentrate on all the things you can not break. Her skin, her flesh, the restraint so flimsily holding back your STRONGNESS.

“Mmmm, oh yes, yes, that’s good, Equius, yes, just like that, just – like – that!”

She grinds the front of herself into your bonesheath and then you can’t hold yourself back any longer and you feel the orgasm sweep over you. You don’t even have a chance to ask for a bucket, your cheeks must be bright blue with humiliation but she doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve just spilled genematerial all over her concupiscent platform and inside her, she’s groaning with her own pleasure and you think. You think this is one of the best things you have ever done in your life.

With her hands cupping the sides of your face, you surrender yourself to be kissed once again.

She takes the cuffs off your wrists and massages the feeling back into them, and you talk quietly with her for a while. You can’t stop apologizing for the mess you’ve made of her warmth planes, but Jane only laughs it off. And then shuts you up with her mouth. You could easily get used to this. You talk about your robotics and your fondness for hoofbeasts, she tells you about the minutiae of Earthian politics and the limitations that distance has put on her baking efforts. After you’ve cleaned yourself off in her ablutions block, crouching a little to fit in the human sized cubicle of her cleansing closet, she helps you dress back into your rumpled finery. You’re going to have to apologize excessively to Kanaya, and see if you can get instructions on mending it.

“I’d like to talk with you some more, once you’ve gone back to your ship.”

You look up as you push your shades onto your face, surprised by the suddenly hesitant tone of her voice. She’s pursued you, acted so confidently, you’re surprised now by the way she’s now suddenly shy. You stoop a little and tilt her chin up so you can kiss her. The pulse of pity in your pusher makes you feel more confident, and she did say she wanted to continue contact with you. You know you’ve done the right thing when you receive that brilliant buck-toothed smile, white against her dark skin.

“I would enjoy that as well.”

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering centaursTesticle [CT]

GG: Equius!  
GG: Did you make it back to your ship alright?  
GG: They didn’t leave you behind, did they?  
CT: D --> Yes, and Nepeta did not need to fulfoal her threat of biting anyone  
CT: D --> I feel like I should apologize  
GG: For what? And don’t be silly.  
CT: D --> Oh  
CT: D --> If you think so, then  
GG: Hoo hoo!  
GG: You’re welcome to have your own opinions, bo, I’m not going to scold you for them.  
GG: I did mean to ask you something.  
GG: You can absolutely say no! I wouldn’t want you to feel like I’m twisting your arm.  
CT: D --> What did you wish to ask me?  
GG: Did you want to make this something a little more...permanent? Just to try, at least?  
GG: I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I thought we both enjoyed the other’s company immensely.  
GG: I am human, after all! And you’re a troll. That can be a bit much for something a little more settled than a one night flushfling.  
GG: I could understand why you wouldn’t want to, but I wanted to ask.  
GG: I want to see how far this could go and I’m happy to initiate some official paperwork because I don’t think I like the idea of anyone else taking this stallion out of the stable for a canter around the park. If that matches up with your thinking as well, of course.  
GG: :B  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Well  
CT: D --> Fiddlesti%  
CT: D --> Miss Crocker, I would be honoured  
GG: Dandy! Let me know when you’ve talked it over with your moirail, and then we’ll see about the rest of it.  
GG: <3!  
CT: D -->  
CT: D --> ... <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addendum.

terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]

TC: what is uuuuup  
TC: MY WICKED FUCKING HATESIS  
TC: :o)  
GG: You are a disgusting panderer and should be shot in the street like the mangy dog you are.  
TC: i take it you had some motherfucking fun then  
TC: WITH THAT NASTY BLUEBRO OF MINE  
TC: took that stallion out for a good motherfucking ride  
TC: FEELING A BIT SADDLESORE JANEYGIRL?  
GG: Ugh. I don’t know why I am so consistently appalled by your language and your behaviour.  
GG: I really should just expect the gross nonsense that comes dribbling out of your piehole.  
GG: And cease to be surprised or horrified in any way.  
TC: heard bluebro has a wicked bulge  
TC: HOPE HE DIDN’T WRECK YA NOOK  
TC: i motherfuckin like that nook  
GG: And if you want to keep visiting my, uh, nook, you had better be a little more polite about Equius.  
GG: I thought he was your friend.  
GG: And you’re the one who said I would enjoy his company!  
GG: Which I did, but I’m not saying thank you to gross nasty clowntrash.  
TC: HONK :o)  
TC: i’ll take the thanks as implied  
TC: I LIKE MY FUCKS A LITTLE WARMER THAN BLUE  
TC: humans are a motherfucking riot  
TC: FOR SOME HERETICAL ASS MOTHERFUCKERS  
TC: but yeah i thought you’d like him  
TC: THROW A MOTHERFUCKING BONE TO MY MOTHERFUCKING SPADE  
TC: and help a invertebrother out in getting his flush on  
TC: I JUST ARRANGED A MEETING  
TC: for two motherfuckers of who i thought might hit it off nice and red  
TC: DON’T GET JUDGY ON ME MY BITCHITITA  
TC: bluebro’s a hatefriend from way back and i ain’t putting him down none  
GG: I would certainly hope not!  
GG: At least he can take orders properly. He’s really a bit of a gentleman, unlike some trolls I could name.  
GG: Very respectful!  
GG: You fight me every step of the way and you know you like what I can do to you.  
TC: ain’t that a fact that sparks a wicked harshwhimsy in me  
TC: YOU MOTHERFUCKING LIKE IT WHEN I GET THE DROP ON YOU TOO  
TC: my bulge all up that red hot nook you got and that sweet bodacious ass  
TC: IT’S BEEN TOO LONG  
GG: No, we didn’t have a chance to even talk at the recent co-species function.  
GG: I was rather distracted by mister Zahhak and his suit.  
GG: When are you going to drop by?  
GG: Just so I can get some pies baking. :B  
TC: awww sis  
TC: TOO GOOD TO CLOWNTRASH LIKE ME  
GG: Don’t misunderstand me, bucko!  
GG: I didn’t say they were for you, I was planning on making cherry pie for mister Vantas.  
GG: You don’t deserve even one single slice.  
TC: :o(  
TC: something wrong about you getting so cosy with my diamond, hatebitch  
TC: FEELS UN FUCKING NATURAL  
GG: Hoo hoo!  
GG: Unlike you, Commodore Vantas appreciates good baking and isn’t a relentless pile of biohazardous waste in troll shape.  
GG: The only pie you’ll get is one right in the puss!  
TC: <3<  
TC: sounds like some fucking fun  
TC: I’LL LET YOU KNOW ON WHAT MY TIMING IS  
TC: or maybe i will make it a motherfucking surprise  
TC: KEEP AN EYE OUT  
TC: honk  
TC: HONK  
TC: :o)  


terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]

GG: <3<  
GG: Darn clown.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra addendum.

terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

TC: hey my wickedest kittybitch  
TC: WHAT’S MOTHERFUCKING UP WITH YOUR BAD SELF?  
AC: :33 < *the furrocious huntress spies her matesprit through the tall grass*  
AC: :33 < *she pounces!*  
TC: it is a total motherfucking annihilation  
TC: NONE SURVIVE  
TC: what a fucking shame  
AC: :33 < gamz33, noooo  
AC: :33 < purrlay purroperly!  
TC: I’M JUST JOKING SWEET KITTY WITH THE MOST SPECTACULAR TITTIES  
TC: *the seagoat is pounced on*  
TC: *HE IS MOTHERFUCKING PLEASED TO SEE HIS MATESPRIT*  
TC: *he says* it has been a long motherfucking time since i’ve had sniff of you my little meowbeast heart  
TC: THIS CLOWN FUCKING MISSED YA  
AC: :33 < you say some really sw33t things sometimes!  
AC: :33 < i want to get my paws all over your horns  
AC: :33 < and your butt!  
AC: :33 < mew looked purretty good at the purrty  
AC: :33 < but the quadrant wall waits for no troll and ships need to sail!  
TC: so i did good, setting up your diamond with my spade?  
TC: STILL DON’T KNOW WHY YOU THINK THIS IS GOING TO FUCKING WORK  
TC: hatebitch is a wicked motherfucking harpy when she gets her claws in  
AC: :33 < wait and s33!  
AC: :33 < equihiss is much happier lately  
AC: :33 < i even saw him smiling the other day while he was working  
AC: :33 < i think we did just fine  
TC: IF YOU THINK SO MY WICKED KITTYBITCH  
TC: i want to see you before fucking drone season though  
TC: GONNA SEE WHAT I CAN DO  
TC: this power i got now has to be good for something  
TC: AND BESIDES  
TC: think my diamondbro’s got something to say at your bluebro  
TC: YOU SEE THAT FUCKING PITCH AT THE PARTY?  
AC: :33 < ive nefur been as interested in the caliginous quadrant  
AC: :33 < but it would be purretty hard to deny  
AC: :33 < i thought equihiss was going to break a tooth  
AC: :33 < he hasnt done that fur sw33ps!  
AC: :33 < karkitty makes him purretty mad  
TC: it’s pretty motherfucking mutual  
TC: WON’T PRETEND HE SAID LOATHE WHEN I WAS MAKING SPEECH WITH HIM LATER  
TC: but he does set something afire in my palebro’s pusher  
TC: KARKAT NEEDS SOMETHING TO SHARPEN HIS SICKLES ON  
TC: if you don’t mind volunteering up your big diamond, pretty sure i can get mine in line  
AC: :33 < are you sure???  
AC: :33 < im over my flushcrush on karkitty i really am  
AC: :33 < youre the only one in my heart quadrant gamz33 makara  
AC: :33 < you dont think our diamonds hating on each other will make things change between us?  
TC: MY PALE FOR MY MUTANT BRO IS PRETTY FUCKING SET IN STONE  
TC: pale as stars for him  
TC: AND IT WILL LAST UNTIL THEY GO OUT AND THE DARK CARNIVAL BRINGS US HOME  
TC: don’t see myself going ashen  
TC: I DON’T HATE HIM OR EQUIUS AT ALL  
TC: and i am motherfucking happy to leave any conciliating of the bluebro to you  
TC: MOTHERFUCKER IS KIND OF A CREEP  
TC: sorry kittysis  
AC: :33 < no, its true  
AC: :33 < :SS  
AC: :33 < im glad that the crocker human s33ms to be able to handle him!  
AC: :33 < he really just wants to be apurrciated  
AC: :33 < its all hes ever wanted really  
AC: :33 < he just chooses the wrong way to go about getting what he wants  
AC: :33 < i couldnt go ashen fur them either  
TC: THEN I THINK WE’RE ALL SET TO MOTHERFUCKING GO  
TC: just like some sort of miraculous rocketship  
TC: PCHOOOOO  
AC: :33 < h33h33! so i think thats settled then  
AC: :33 < operation ship red vs blue is a go  
TC: as you motherfucking like it kittybitch  
TC: WANT TO DO SOME OF THE FUNNER SORT OF ROLEPLAY NOW?  
TC: gonna make you ruin that seating block you’re in  
AC: :33 < jokes on you meowster!  
AC: :33 < im not on a seating block  
TC: OH YEAH?  
AC: :33 < nope!  
AC: ;33c < im on my concupiscent couch in those anticipatory pailing lacethings you sent me  
AC: :33 < :DD  
AC: :33 < http://tinyurl.com/whatthemightyhuntressiswearingrightnow.png  
TC: mother  
TC: FUCK


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even further addenda.
> 
> This is the point where I feel like I lost control of the whole situation.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: you’ll nevah guess what our janeyjane did  
TG: she bagged another troll  
TG: j crocker in the hizzouse  
TG: notching up her james t kirk bedposts  
TG: need to figure out whut’s in her milkshake shake shake  
TG: some of those alien butts be p fine  
TT: She what?  
TG: *wonk*  
TG: wait wait i got it  
TG: *WINK!*  
TG: haha fuckin score  
TG: lookit that sassy ass wink  
TT: Please tell me you’re joking.  
TG: lmfao ovr here di-stri  
TG: janey’s a big girl  
TG: she can handle a coupla trollol bfs  
TG: see u at the hfa post-party confab stridercakes  
TG: u need to start coming to the panties  
TG: *parties  
TG: ur missing out!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TT: You’re not joking.  
TT: Damn it.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] 

 

timaeusTestified [TT] started pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

TT: Really, Jane?  
GG: Really what, Dirk?  
GG: I’m a little busy right now, so you’ll have to excuse me.  
GG: I really should have logged off.  
TT: You know what I’m talking about.  
TT: You had better, at least.  
GG: Hmmmm, nope! No idea. I’ve got some cakes about to burn, so I’m going to go.  
GG: You have no idea how hard it can be to procure proper baking supplies this many light years from Terra.  
GG: I’ll talk to you later. There may be cupcakes.  
GG: :B

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering  timaeusTestified [TT] 

TT: God damn it, Jane.  
TT: This is childish. I expect better from you.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] is now an idle chum!

TT: Fine.  
TT: I’ve got other ways of finding things out.  
TT: You won’t like them.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] is an idle chum!

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering  gutsyGumshoe [GG]


	5. Chapter 5

??????? [???] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

???: So you’re the troll.  
CT: D --> E%cuse me?  
CT: D --> How have you added your non-handle to my contact list?  
CT: D --> It’s set to non-public so I’m not bothered by trolls outside of my work group  
CT: D --> I STRONGLY urge you to go away before I bother finding out e%actly who you are   
CT: D --> And report you for disciplinary measures

centaursTesticle [CT]has blocked ??????? [???]!  
??????? [???] has been unblocked!

??????? [???] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

???: Oh no you didn’t.  
???: Can’t say I’m impressed so far.  
CT: D --> If this is you, Captor, I will have the schematics delivered to you the night after ne%t  
CT: D --> Which is the date I said I would have completed them by  
CT: D --> Stop bothering me or it will take longer

centaursTesticle [CT]has blocked ??????? [???]!  
??????? [???] has been unblocked!

??????? [???] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

???: Dude, you’ve got to understand you won’t get rid of me before I’m ready to go.  
???: And I’m far from ready.  
???: Got a few questions for you.  
???: What game do you think you’re playing here?  
CT: D --> Go away

centaursTesticle [CT]has blocked ??????? [???]!  
??????? [???] has been unblocked!

??????? [???] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

???: Wow, you sure don’t learn.  
???: Guess Crocker likes them big and dumb, I can’t explain this otherwise.  
???: Tell me just what is your deal, McSweat.  
CT: D --> Humans don’t have moirails and she hasn’t mentioned a human equivalent in her life  
CT: D --> And miss Crocker and her quadrants are therefore none of your concern  
CT: D --> I STRONGLY suggest you go  
CT: D --> Or I will be forced to take steps  
???: Oh yeah? What sort of steps do you think you can take against me?  
???: Currently I’m only text on a computer screen for you.

 

???: Ò̼̦W͙ ̧̘̫̗̲̮̙̤W̧͉͖H͍̼̺̰A̷͓͎̝͚̫Ṱ̝̩̜̮́ ̪̘͝T̼̥̫̼͕H̞̻̪̯E͔͔̪͠ ͕̝͎̮F͎̮͕̣U͈C̮̘̹͍̼͈͔̀K̻̮̬̰͢.  
CT: D --> Those kind of steps  
CT: D --> Desist immediately  
CT: D --> I order you to do so  
CT: D --> Befoal I am forced to canternue my campaign of atta%  
???: Horse puns. Does Jane know you make horse puns?  
???: Really bad horse puns at that, those were kind of a stretch.  
CT: D --> I believe that as my moirail would say at this impasse, *CT sighed in e%asperation*

 

???: GOD҉̳̘̬̼̖͚ ̛̲̙͕̟FU͕̱̦͇̥̺̰͝C̬̤̠̦KIN̖̩̗G̡̲͍͓̤̤͙̹ ͘D̘͉A̯̞͟M̠͕͇͙N̫̫͔ ͍̠͎͜I̠̦͇͍̞T̠̖͡.  
???: You’re not a psionic. And they don’t work like that anyway.  
???: How are you shocking me?  
???: This doesn’t make any sense.  
???: I’m on a completely different network, maybe even in a different galaxy.  
???: Definitely a different solar system.  
CT: D --> I don’t need to e%plain myself or my methods to an anonymous coward  
CT: D --> Desist, before I am forced to e%late this situation  
CT: D --> I will assume that you are a traitor to the Alternian-Terran code of conduct and proceed accordingly, human  
CT: D --> I am very busy and don’t have time for this kind of ridicu100s nonsense  
???: Busy with what? You’re a blueblood, I can’t remember I saw one of you doing anything besides sniping people with ranged attacks.  
CT: D --> That is none of your gosh darn concern, human  
CT: D --> And my acquaintance’s virus has found your system, I see  
CT: D --> Goodbye

??????? [???]'s computer has exploded!

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

CT: D --> Captor  
CT: D --> Thank you for that ~ATH virus  
CT: D --> It recently became quite useful

centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

TA: EQ??  
TA: you’re welcome, ii guess  
TA: huh

twinArmageddons [TA]ceased trolling  centaursTesticle [CT]


	6. Chapter 6

“...and then I initiated the ~ATH virus that Captor had sent me previously to deal with a different problem, and destroyed the computer of the interloper,” you say, looking up at the ceiling of your respiteblock while Nepeta cradles your head in her lap. Her claws dig gently through your hair, separating it into little strands before she idly starts to braid little plaits with flyaway pieces. She had pulled you into a pile as soon as you stepped out of your labs. Somehow, she always knew when your nerves were frayed and what you needed most was a good feelings jam intermixed with a little light papping.

“That meowght have been a mistake, Equihiss,” she tells you thoughtfully and you grimace; she is correct, of course. But you had been irritated and tired and lashed out from temper. Maybe you no longer ruin your experiments before you’ve finished them and trash your lab equipment on a whim of rage, but you’re still. You. You have only chosen less physically violent ways of dispelling your feelings of uncontrollable anger most of the time. And it had been so _satisfying_ to unleash Captor’s elegantly crafted virus on whoever it was that was being so unforgivably rude. “From the log you showed me, I would say that hiss might have been one of the Crocker human’s furiends! You probably should ask her who you need to apawlogize to.”

“I don’t _want to_ apologize.” Your tone is stiff and still thrumming with an undercurrent of ill temper. There had been some implications in what the mysterious anon in the mutant red text had said that don’t sit well with you. What was your game? Who thought that you were playing some sort of manipulative game with Jane? You are doing nothing of the sort, and you STRONGLY resent the implication that you are, with a deep abiding sort of anger. “Their insinuations were...decidedly pale. If they feel like that about her, then they should make it known instead of trying to meddle in her flush quadrant behind her back.”

“You’re so cute,” she coos and pinches your cheek between her claws, before patting where she had dug in her clawtips for a moment. You snort dismissively and close your eyes. With her hands on your head and smoothing a thumb around your hornbeds in between playing with your hair, you feel much calmer than you did before she pulled you into a pile of broken engine parts and plush meowbeast-shaped pale aids. It really is quite lewd; you’re glad you’re in your quarters where no one would dare disturb the pair of you and your jam. “Maybe they want her to just realise that’s how they feel about her! Some people are kind of dense about these things...like some blue robot-building trolls I could name!”

“I was not this foolish about our quadrant.”

“Um. You kind of were, Equihiss! Remember?” She pinches you again and you growl, even if you don’t mean it. The light airy giggle that your moirail scorns you with shows that she knows it; you can only sigh deeply in response. Nepeta takes you just as seriously as she needs to and not one jot more. It is what you need. You take yourself far too seriously, and you are more than aware of it. “I spent cycles leaving dead cholerbeasts on your lawnring!”

“It was very distressing to Aurthour and myself, I remember that quite clearly.”

“You were a pawful hunter! You needed to be fed. I was your hopeful squawkflapbeast lusus in your time of need!” 

“ _Disgusting_.”

“I didn’t know you were,” she lowers her voice as though to disclose some moral failing, “ _vegetarian_ at the time.” Her lukewarm face nuzzles against yours and the tip of her tongue licks at your cheek. Some habits she picked up from her meowbeastmom had never been broken, and that included some of her grooming behaviours. You don’t really mind, even if it means having some green-coloured spit drying on your cheek occasionally. “You’re lucky you were so cute with your little shattered shades and wiggler shorts, or I meowght have found another hoofbeast grub to take under my feathery flight-appendage.”

“Hmmm.” You move your shoulders a little and settle deeper into the pile, parts of robots grinding against each other with a scree of metal on metal. It’s muffled by the meowbeast snuggle aids. Nepeta toys with the tip of your intact horn, snuffling husky giggles into your hair. “Indeed. Or perhaps you’re lucky that I brought you in from the woods and taught you to behave like a properly civilised troll.”

She bites you at that teasing comment, and you snort with reluctant laughter as she gnaws on your shoulder like a grub with a chewtoy. It’s affectionate, so she’s not drawing the blood she so easily could. You’ve almost entirely forgotten what made you so angry in the first place. “Grrrr! I’m a mighty huntress! I’m pawsitively _savage_! And don’t you furget it, meowster!”

“How could I forget?” you chuckle and feel the last of your stress disappear. She drops diamond bright kisses on your forehead and your unbroken horn, and you reach up to stroke her face. Rub your thumb over her cheek. “...miss Crocker has asked me if I wanted to fill out official paperwork for a human quadrant filial exemption prior to drone season. I told her I was not adverse to the proposition, but she suggested discussing it with you before we fill out the forms.” You’re not _confessing_ , but you have been thinking about how to bring it up. Best just to say it, you always strive to be honest with your moirail. “What if it makes trouble for her with her clade? Someone is obviously not pleased with the turn of events and we have not even made it official as yet.”

“I think you should go for it! And to the Demoness with whoever has a purroblem,” Nepeta chirps, letting go of one larger braid so it hangs down by the side of your face. You feel her claws run through the lank hair on the other side and separate out a new lock before she starts to plait it slowly. “She makes you happy, Equius. So tell me, what’s so pitiable about her? I spotted her at the purrty, but I pawviously didn’t have a chance to speak with her.”

You shrug helplessly. “She...hmm. I suppose it’s more honest to say that she found me pitiable?” How do you put it into words? You lift your hands for a moment as though you could grab the words out of the air, and then drop them again. “Soft. She’s so...soft. And small. She should be weak, but she is not. And when...when she said she wanted to speak to me again...she was so...shy.” Your face heats up and your cheeks must be tending towards a bright blue, you can feel yourself starting to sweat. “You do not think I am rushing into this?”

“She sounds cute, and you sound pawsitively adorable when you talk about her,” Nepeta coos, and taps your horn with one finger. You feel it reverberate down into your pan and look up enquiringly. Oh, dear. That look on her face probably boded ill for someone, and you had a feeling it could be Jane. “And if she breaks your flush, the mighty huntress will have a grand hunt on her paws!”

“Nepeta. No. I forbid it.”

“Oh, Nepeta, _yes_. Equius, you’re my moirail and I want you to be happy. You shouldn’t feel so alone when I’m not with you.” She nuzzles in against your cheek, and it isn’t hard to be reminded that your moirail is indeed as she describes herself, a mighty huntress. While you might be the highblood and the physically STRONGER of the two of you, she is quite the capable killer and you can feel her STRONGNESS as her arms encircle you. One soft kiss is planted on your cheek, and she purrs into your aural clot gently. Everything in your pusher is pulsing with pale. “And I pity you _so much_ , you great big lump.”

“Pale as diamonds and stars for you, Nepeta.”

“Pale as bone and fang, Equius.” She giggles, and straightens up in the pile, dislodging your head from its position on her lap. You roll over on your stomach, propping yourself up on one elbow and she’s holding up two fingers extended from her fist, and you make the same gesture back with your other hand, completing the diamond between the two of you. “Hmmph! Well. I hope she has an idea of what she’s in fur with mew. I need to have a talk with her so we can talk about what a _pitiable wreck_ you are.”

“You do not need to have such a talk. I forbid you from harassing Miss Crocker.”

“When I start talking about signing official quadrant papers with someone, Equihiss, you get to have the talk with whatever troll it is too.”

“I wish you would. Find someone for your heart or spade. Both. You should have both.” You look down, twining a lock of hair she hasn’t managed to braid yet around your fingers. Is it because of you? You’ve always wondered why she hasn’t found anyone in either the red or the black quadrant on a permanent basis. She’s perfectly pitiable, although you could never think of her in anything other than a purely conciliatory way. You must _suppose_ that some troll could find her loathsome, even if you can’t see how. “I do not wish you to be unfulfilled in other areas of your romantic life. And you...deserve someone in each quadrant. I dislike the thought of you...always...with partners who do not deserve you, who do not...”

“You _precious disaster_.” Her lips press against your forehead again as you start to choke up, and you look up over the rim of your shades. Her smile is bright and fond, and you feel yourself fall in pity all over again. “I’m purrfectly happy with my quadrants right now! Don’t worry so much, Equihiss.” 

“I’m allowed to want you to be happy too,” you say stiffly, because sometimes you worry that things are uneven between the two of you. You do not want her to _ever_ feel that you are taking advantage of her, trampling all over her wants and wishes. Except for maybe sometimes when you really do know better because sometimes, Nepeta doesn’t really think about how things _look_. You want her to be safe, _secure_ , and you would fight the universe to keep her smiling and alive and happy. In a way, you already have – your lives together are much better under Her Ascendant Beneficence’s rule than they would have been under Her Imperial Condescension’s. 

“The content purrbeast tells the noble stallion that of course she understands he wants her to be happy, they’re in diamond with each other, and she just wants him to be happy too.” Her head bumps up against yours again, her horns rubbing against your hair and you scratch her gently around the hornbeds. You both roll over into the pile, this time with her chin nestling against your thorax and arms thrown over the side of your body as she stretches out lazily on her stomach and you on your back. You have never felt a need to protect your throat around Nepeta once you both established how pale you both were for the other. It really had been...serendipitous. What if one of you had gone a different way on the day you had met? The thought chills you to the bone. What would you do without her? Or a more disquieting thought, _who_ would you be? “Oooh! Yeah, do that again. Mm.”

You continue to caress her rounded triangular horns, and watch as the tension fades from her expression and she starts to purr. Her deceptively muscled body lies across yours like a limp rug as you work your fingers gently into and around her hornbeds, until she’s thrumming with contented pale and it’s almost contagious, you can feel a slow sighing rumble in your own chest, just watching her blissful expression. “I have a lot of work to do on the new designs for the helmsman rig,” you tell her, and she cracks one green eye open at you. 

“If I catch you not eating again...”

“That is why I am informing you of what will be consuming my time shortly, Nepeta. I have no desire to starve myself again trying to match impossible demands.” You stroke your thumb along the sharp angle of her cheek, and her eye closes again lazily as you soothe her. Rubbing her cheek in gently circular motions, you feel her start to drift again, muscles relaxing from momentary predatory tenseness. You do not often have the opportunity to be the one performing the pacifying in your moirallegiance, so you enjoy the chance to be the one calming her down. “I have removed my ability to block you from my workspace for two cycles, when I should be finished with this latest redesign. I trust you will not abuse it.”

“ _Equius Zahhak_.” Her voice is something close to awed, and she has actually sat up to look at you, stare you in the eyes through the flimsy barrier of your cracked shades. You blush and turn your head to one side, coughing a little to try and hide your embarrassment. Clawed fingers catch your chin and you let her turn your head back so you’re both gazing at each other; you feel sweat prickle along your hairline as her serious olive gaze holds your own as if she could hypnotize you. Of course she couldn’t, you are far too STRONG for that. “Did you just give me free reign of your labs so I can look after you? Fur real?”

“I. Hmm. Yes. Maybe? A little.” If you weren’t lying down, even you might have been knocked out flat on your back despite your STRONGNESS as she hugs you. Throws her arms around you and embraces you tightly with all the might she can muster, and you can feel her purr rumbling through her thorax like the engine of Kanaya’s chainsaw. You fold your arms around her carefully, and close your eyes. She smells like hive, peace and comfort and you feel your own purr respond to hers, both of you buzzing, soft thrumming noises of pure pale. 

What you really should do is get back to work, but you can do that in a moment. The work is always there. And Nepeta is much more important to you than that.

When you’ve struggled out of the pile and seen Nepeta off to her own workshift, you head back into your workshop. Most of the time, you work alone. You prefer it that way. Perhaps you share some benchspace but your projects are your own and you can complete them in your own way. Work arrives in your inbox, you work through it and push completed projects on to the next stage and you often have time to work on your own side projects as well. You work best alone.

Not when it comes to the Helmsman project.

Instead of working to your own beat and rhythm, you have to co-operate with Captor. In some ways, you don’t mind. His programming leaps into places where your more or less purely functional code would falter, but you have always held the STRONGEST grasp of hardware, robotics and general mechanics. But there is always the downside of actually having to negotiate with Captor. If he wasn’t so gosh darn good at what he did, you would have been happy to see him banished to a helmscolumn and out of your mane sweeps ago.

twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

TA: 2o hey EQ.  
TA: that piiece of 2hiit code you threw up?  
TA: let me be the fiir2t troll two tell you iit’2 2hiit  
TA: and al2o the 2econd troll.  
TA: iit’2 2hiit  
CT: D --> Language, Captor  
CT: D --> Fine. If my code is not up to your standards, feel free to insert something else if you’re so sure it will be mare functional  
CT: D --> But keep your hooves off my hardware schemati% and prostheses designs  
CT: D --> You need to move past this idea of comfort as a priority  
CT: D --> I won’t say it’s not a worthwhile ideal  
CT: D --> But there is a minimum drain required to operate a starship so it can function as required, especially in regards to combat  
TA: oh wow EQ  
TA: contiinue two tell me how comfort ii2 2econdary two a helm2man’2 u2e a2 a giiant FUCKIING battery.  
TA: ii love heariing thii2 2hiit from you  
TA: iit really ju2t make2 my fuckiing niight iit2 ju2t the be2t  
CT: D --> Language, again  
CT: D --> I’m aware of the fact that lowb100ds have poor memories due to their concentrated lifespan, but it would be good if you c001d at least remember my directives when they are only moments in the past  
TA: holy fuckiing hell 2ometiime2 ii ju2t can’t beliieve the ab2olute hoofbea2t2hiit that come2 vomiitiing out of your loadgaper of a 2quawkblii2ter.  
TA: nookmunch, your moiiraiil ii2 a lowblood iif iit come2 down to that.  
TA: do you pull thii2 2hiit on her?  
CT: D --> Nepeta is not part of this discussion, Captor  
CT: D --> If you continue, I will be forced to halter our conversation for the time being and resume it later  
CT: D --> When perhaps you can converse in a civilised manner  
TA: fuck you two, a22hole, fuck you very much  
TA: moviing on two do 2ome actual work.  
TA: ok, you really need two look at the ocular iimplant2, that ii2 not goiing two be ok on a long term ba2ii2 of helmiing  
TA: 2hiit ii2 fuckiing uncomfortable a2 fuck  
CT: D --> It is the most efficient interface option  
CT: D --> What is your suggestion?  
TA: ii don’t know, how about not goiing iin through the fuckiing ocular 2ocket2?  
TA: the whole thiing need2 two be detachable.  
TA: when a 2hiift ii2 over, helm2men get two go and be actual troll2 ju2t liike every other troll iin the fleet  
TA: that ii2 FF’2 new plan, riight? you diid under2tand that part of the project outliine?  
CT: D --> Hrrk  
CT: D --> You should not speak so familiarly of the Empress  
CT: D --> I order you to show more respect to the Benefice  
TA: oh 2hiit not thii2 agaiin.  
TA: workiing wiith you ii2 one of the way2 iin whiich ii’m beiing punii2hed for all my 2iin2, ii’m 2ure of iit and ii wii2h ii knew what they were and that ii had enjoyed them more.  
TA: ii’m 2endiing through 2ome 2ketche2 and bluepriint2.  
TA: try not two get 2weat on your viiewer 2creen thii2 tiime when you take your note2 and 2end them back.  
TA has sent multiple files to CT’s inbox!  
CT: D --> Hmmm  
CT: D --> Give me a few moments to peruse  
centaursTesticle [CT]is an idle troll!

centaursTesticle [CT]is no longer an idle troll!

CT: D --> Your code for the interfacing should work adequately enough  
CT: D --> If we’re not going to set a permanent visor in place to access psionics through the ocular sockets  
CT: D --> I suggest supplementing the cartilaginous support column neural jacks  
CT: D --> Here  
CT has sent multiple files to TA’s inbox!  
CT: D --> Or surgical replacement on the helmsman’s oculars altogether  
CT: D --> I have made some very realistic looking prosthetic oculars previously  
CT: D --> I have been assured there was little difference when it came to sight  
CT: D --> That would surely be a little more comfortable, if the original sight orbs are removed entirely?  
CT: D --> There would be no remaining pain receptors to register any discomfort if we design the surgical implants properly  
TA: fuck no two that la2t 2ugge2tiion.  
TA: twenty-two thou2and fuckiing world2 of fuck no.  
TA: ii can not actually 2ay no enough.  
TA: you come up wiith the weiirde2t, creepiie2t iidea2.  
TA: ju2t. no. holy 2hiit, EQ, fuckiing no.  
TA: let’2 look over your alteratiion2 two the central nervou2 2y2tem hook up iin2tead  
TA: 2eriiou2ly there ii2 2o much wrong wiith you holy 2hiittiing fucknugget2  
CT: D --> Again, I remind you of my previous orders that you moderate your disgustingly 100d language  
TA: you know what, iif you can 2top beiing a hemoca2tii2t a22hole, ii miight try and ju2t do the thiing that you a2ked for  
TA: but ii know you can’t, 2o ii’m not goiing two fuckiing bother.  
TA: you can’t even a2k me poliitely wiithout beiing a patronii2iing a22 iin 2ome way.  
TA: 2o 2uck iit, zahhak, fuckiing 2uffer.  
CT: D --> Fiddlesti%  
CT: D --> I need a towel  
CT: D --> One moment  
centaursTesticle [CT]is an idle troll!  
TA: fuck everythiing iin my hot me22 of a liife  
centaursTesticle [CT]is no longer an idle troll!  
CT: D --> Moving on  
CT: D --> I will cons001t with a doctorturer regarding how much mechanical weight and interface a troll vertebral column of ochre, copper or burgundy could be reasonably expected to support  
CT: D --> And then I will send through some updated schemati%  
CT: D --> Possibly a small scale model, if I think I can keep the weight down to something reasonable for the permanent biowire interlink nodes  
CT: D --> I really need some sort of light non-corrosive metal for the neural ports  
CT: D --> Something better than what we have  
TA: we’ll fiind 2omethiing.  
TA: an alloy maybe?  
CT: D --> Maybe I should look back at the biogeneered grubs again  
TA: ii’m not 2ure what ii2 worse, the grub2 or the fakey ocular2 where you remove 2omeone’2 fucking 2ight ball2  
TA: gro22 EQ  
CT: D --> Well, we have to do something, Sollu%  
CT: D --> And a neural grub implant is hardly the worst thing that c001d happen to a troll  
CT: D --> I have one myself  
TA: 2tiill kiinda weiird dude.  
TA: and we’re not talkiing ju2t a liittle one iin the 2iide of your thiinkpan, we’re talkiing a 2eriie2 of them up and down the whole 2upport column.  
CT: D --> You realise that at some point this is going to have to be put in an actual troll  
CT: D --> I suggest we move to live testing at the end of this double cycle  
TA: fuck you no.  
TA: we’re at lea2t two thou2and hour2 off beiing able two put thii2 2hiit iinto 2omeone  
TA: why don’t you do 2ome 2iide re2earch on materiial2?  
CT: D --> We continue to run into the same hurdles consistently on this project  
CT: D --> Mostly due to your squeamishness  
CT: D --> This is for the glory of Alternia  
CT: D --> You need to be able to think about this like a logical troll w001d  
CT: D --> And not like one emotionally connected to the issue of helming  
TA: what, liike you, you mean? ahahahaha...no.  
TA: thii2 ii2 why FF diidn’t tru2t you wiith thii2 2hiit on your own.  
TA: you don’t know when your iidea2 are ju2t 2hiithiive 2queakbea2t crazy becau2e you have 2uch a 2quiirmy for the hemoca2te  
CT: D --> I resent both that remark and your immodest language  
TA: you re2emble that remark, you mean.  
TA: ok, ii need two get back two moniitoriing the entiire alterniian net before a 2criiptkiiddiie doom2 u2 all,  
TA: and you have 2ome drawiing and tiinkeriing two do.  
TA: piick thii2 up next niight?  
CT: D --> Indubitably  
CT: D --> Farewell, Sollu%  
TA: catch you later, EQ.  
TA: try two work on makiing your 2olutiion2 two the2e problem2 not 2o miindwarpiingly terriible, ok?

twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

CT: D --> I still think the robotic ocular prostheses would be a good compromise between our positions  
CT: D --> But I will work on alternate designs

centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling  twinArmageddons [TA]

Despite your seeming surrender, you continue working on the replacement ocular implants on the side. They seem like such a functional way to replace the visor – no one would have to truly know that they were not a helmstroll’s original sight orbs. Well. Not many trolls, at least. Why lose so much of the possible psionic energy by using the central spinal support column? Going straight to the thinkpan via the ocular sockets just makes so much sense. And if his issue is discomfort, well, you think you’ve solved that. Remove the neural receptors, you remove the pain because there is nothing left to feel anything at all.

It would be so much more elegantly efficient than this nonsense of fooling around with the vertebral column.

With a sour taste in your mouth, you send through more drawings and drafts of possible solutions to this issue of a detachable Helmsman, fighting to work within Captor’s restrictions and still maintain required energy output. Currently, the Empire inducts no new psionics into the Fleet as batteries and Helmsmen, not until you and Captor can manage this to the Benefice’s satisfaction. Your ships are starting to limp; you can only expect the humans to protect one of the Empire’s flanks for so long. Under Her Imperial Condescension, the Alternian Empire had spread its claws wide and you’re paying for her successor’s soft heart now. Or shortly will be.

Wiping a towel over your face and neck, your focus dissolves into a world of tools and parts, glittering, perfect and pulsing with potential. Nepeta drags out of your labs as you’ve authorised her to do and forces you to eat. Everything outside of your work becomes nonsensical, worthless. You drown in a sea of problems and possibilities, you feel like your path out is blocked at every turn by sarcastic honey-coloured text that shoots down your every suggestion. 

You try harder.

Your hands bleed from tiny cuts, burns of solder decorate your skin from fingertips to wrists to elbows like medals of valour. Collapsing into a comfort block at the side of your lab bench, you stretch your arms high above your head and roll your shoulders. Something cracks and you grimace. You are so tired, you can barely think. Everything is a blur in your exhaustion and you are still no closer to finding a solution despite your intensive efforts. Soon this block you have set aside to deal with this problem and only this problem will be over and you will be released to rest, work on other lesser projects and put the Helmsman issue to one side. All you want to do is _fix_ it.

You blink, accidentally triggering your Trollian application and your shades light up in pale blue text.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering centaursTesticle [CT]

GG: Equius, where have you been?  
GG: I’m a little disappointed, mister.  
GG: I was pretty sure we really had something!  
CT: D --> Jane?

Oh. _Ohhhhh dear_. You are the worst troll. Worst moirail, worst matesprit. Why does anyone ever put up with you. Everything inside your organic cavity shrinks and sinks, falls, you feel a yawning emptiness open up inside you. Sweat starts to trail its way down the back of your neck, and you prepare to face the music.

You can just about feel one of your teeth chip as you clench your jaw.

CT: D --> Jane  
CT: D --> Oh dear  
CT: D --> I am sorry I have not been available for your contact when we have only so recently met  
CT: D --> I am really most dreadfully sorry  
CT: D --> I have been given this project that is taking up all of my time  
CT: D --> I should have told you befoal I started working  
CT: D --> It is ine%cusable of me not to notify you of my absence  
CT: D --> I am sorry  
CT: D --> I apologise most profusely  
CT: D --> My most e%tensive apologies, Miss Crocker  
GG: Whoa, whoa! Slow down there, pal.  
GG: Alright, I wanted some sort of apology but this is a little over the top.  
GG: So tell me what you’ve been doing? I’m going to assume it’s pretty important!  
GG: This is the first time I’ve seen you as anything other than idle or offline for almost a week!  
CT: D --> Hrrk  
CT: D --> For a human, I think that my current work project would be considered confidential and not to be disclosed  
CT: D --> But yes, it is very important  
CT: D --> It is essential to the future of the Alternian Empire and the Benefice’s work  
CT: D --> I just  
CT: D --> I want to do this properly  
CT: D --> It is very important, neigh, it is imperative that I find a solution to the problem within the darn constraints I am forced into  
CT: D --> I think I have something and then  
GG: Shhh, shh.  
GG: That is a strictly flushed shoosh, mister Zahhak, so don’t get your ponytail in a twist.  
GG: You sound a little stressed.  
GG: I’ve got an idea that could see you get a little more relaxed and maybe you’ll make more headway tomorrow night.  
GG: Where are you now?  
CT: D --> My workbench  
GG: Are you alone?  
CT: D --> Um  
CT: D --> Yes?  
CT: D --> My labmates have gone to ‘coon I must suppose  
CT: D --> It is nearly noon  
GG: Oh good.  
GG: Then we’re not going to be disturbed.  
GG: :B  
GG: Soooo...  
GG: What are you wearing?  
CT: D --> Uh  
CT: D --> Jane?  
GG: Come on, mister Zahhak, I asked you a question!  
GG: Should I add in a salacious wink? ;B  
GG: Your word is diamond, remember that if you need it.  
GG: So tell me, Equius. Just what clothes are you wearing right now?  
GG: Describe yourself.  
GG: Describe where you are.  
GG: And just so we’re both perfectly clear; yes. This is an order.  
CT: D --> Oh my  
CT: D --> This is quite  
CT: D --> Forward of you, Jane  
GG: I plan to make the most of our time.  
GG: It sounds like you’re very busy and I want to ensure that you’re relaxed when I’m done with you.  
GG: You’ll work better if you have a moment to rest, I want you straight to ‘coon when we’re done as well.  
CT: D --> Well  
CT: D --> I suppose  
CT: D --> I have been given my orders  
GG: Good boy. Go on.  
CT: D --> As you wish, Jane  
CT: D --> I am alone in one of the research blocks on the Absolutism  
CT: D --> I am seated in a comfort block next to my work station  
CT: D --> It is covered in parts of my current project  
CT: D --> I am  
CT: D --> I am wearing what I usually wear when I am working  
CT: D --> Hrk  
GG: Equius.  
GG: You can tell me.  
GG: No one is going to know.  
GG: This is just between us and it goes no further.  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Oh fiddlesti%  
CT: D --> I am wearing a tanktop with my sign  
CT: D --> And shorts with long socks and boots  
CT: D --> My shades  
CT: D --> Is that sufficient? Jane?  
GG: Good boy. You’re doing very well.  
GG: Open your shorts.

Your eyes open wide and your head jerks around to look at the door as though someone could hear what the text on the inside of your lenses is saying. Enter to denounce you for this lewd behaviour, even though you have barely done anything. Sweat trickles down your nape and you feel a guilty lurch of something like concupiscent interest in your abdomen. Your hands tremble on the arms of the chair, and you reach for the towel at the end of your bench, pressing it to the side of your neck and then your thorax to soak up the gathering sweat.

CT: D --> Jane  
GG: That was an order, bucko.  
GG: You’re sweating right now, aren’t you?  
GG: Go on. Reach down and open up your shorts.  
GG: It’s noon, you know what a troll ship is like at this time of day.  
GG: Skeleton staff.  
GG: No one’s going to walk in on you.  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Very well

Breathing shallowly, you reach down to unbuckle the closure of your shorts with one hand; your other hand is still pressing the towel to the side of your neck to soak up the gathering sweat. It is very unlikely that anyone is going to walk in. It is still possible. 

CT: D --> I have done as you ordered, Jane  
GG: You’re doing very well!  
GG: I know you’re nervous, but relax a little.  
GG: Stroke your nook for me. Just gently.  
CT: D --> This is so 100d  
GG: I know, that’s why it’s such cracking fun.  
GG: Use just the one finger for now.  
GG: How sensitive is your nook, Equius? Let’s find out together.  
GG: Don’t penetrate, just stroke softly.  
CT: D --> Jane  
GG: Shhhhh. Just do it for me, bo.

Now barely breathing at all at your own effrontery and daring, you reach down into the front of your shorts, inside your underwear and let your fingers slide past your bonesheath to the soft entrance of your nook. Just as ordered, you stroke yourself, that slowly dampening flesh, with one finger, gently. Your cheeks must be bright blue and you bite your lip, trying to stifle a gasp of pleasure. It would be the worst thing in the world to be seen as you are right now. You slump back against the comfort block and try to spread your knees apart wider to give yourself some more room.

CT: D --> Jane  
CT: D --> I am doing  
CT: D --> That  
GG: Such a good boy for me.  
GG: I wish I was there to see how good you are.  
GG: I bet your nook looks so pretty.  
GG: Pull your shorts and briefs down to your knees.  
CT: D --> Jane what if someone sees  
CT: D --> I can not  
CT: D --> So depraved  
GG: Shhhshhhshhh. You’re doing just wonderfully.  
GG: Do it for me.

With your pusher in your throat, you lift your rump off the seat of the comfort block and use your hands to slowly slide the clothing on your lower half down to your knees. Just as she’s ordered you to. Now there’s no hiding anything. Your slit is flushed, the sheath starting to split and your bulge is beginning to show. You move your comfort block to make sure your back is to the door and you are facing your bench, in an effort to mitigate your humiliation if someone walked in and saw your disgraceful situation.

CT: D --> It is done  
GG: Good, you’re so well behaved. So good at following my orders.  
CT: D --> Hrrrk  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Jane please  
GG: Are you still stroking your nook for me?  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> No  
CT: D --> I am sorry I will resume my a%tivities immediately  
GG: Two fingers now, if you please.

You do as you’re told and add a second finger to your manipulations, feeling your stomach churn with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. What would someone say if they could see you now? The Engineer, famously stoic with barely an expression to his name and a noted horror of anything deemed lewd or obscene in any fashion, with his pants around his knees and trembling fingers pressed to the engorging lips of his nook in a public work area. The thought is so perverted that your sweat is pouring off you now, and your bulge unsheathes just a little faster.

CT: D --> Yes Jane  
GG: Slide one in slowly for me.  
GG: I know my hands are a lot smaller than yours, but please try to pretend that it’s mine.  
GG: I would love dearly to be with you right now, Equius.  
GG: Touching you, bringing you pleasure.

Breathing heavily, you do just as she’s told you to do and you swallow back a mating trill. For now, as she hasn’t told you to do anything with it, you ignore your unsheathing bulge and let it twist against your lower stomach, painting your dark grey skin with a more viscous blue than the rivulets of your sweat. The feel of one finger inside your nook is only a tease, even considering the width of your fingers. You’re built for bigger.

CT: D --> Oh my  
GG: What a good obedient boy you are.  
GG: I wish I could see you now, touching yourself for me.  
GG: Is it time for a second finger inside you yet?  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Perhaps  
GG: Second finger it is!  
GG: Put it in, dear.

You do as you’re told and a moan escapes your lips as you ease a second finger in beside the first. Your nook is cool around your intruding fingers and you stroke gently, carefully at your walls to simulate the writhe of a bulge. At least you keep your claws clipped short, otherwise you would have had to refuse on the grounds that you could do yourself an injury. If you take it slowly, you should be fine. The sound of your fingers moving inside yourself as you twist them is a wet, slick squelch as genematerial runs down your hand and onto your wrist.

You are so wet, your nook is overflowing with slurry to the point where it’s running down your arm. 

GG: How does that feel, sweetheart?  
CT: D --> Good  
CT: D --> Jane  
CT: D --> Jane it feels so good  
GG: If I was there, this wouldn’t be all I’d be doing, buster.  
GG: I want to make you feel so good, Equius.  
GG: I wonder what you taste like?  
GG: Take your fingers out of your nook and lick them clean for me.  
CT: D --> Oh  
GG: Tell me all about it.

You remove your fingers from their lascivious location inside your nook cautiously and bring them towards your mouth. This is something you can’t say you’ve ever done or even thought of doing. Saliva dilutes slurry; and finding a partner to fill a pail was hard enough, you would never take chances on tainting your offering because you probably wouldn’t get a chance to find someone with whom to make a replacement. Cautiously, you extend your tongue and taste your own dark blue fluids slightly, taking just a dab. It’s not a great taste and you would prefer to stop, but you have your orders and you take a larger lick, curling your tongue around your dripping digits.

CT: D --> It’s salty, I suppose  
CT: D --> Thicker than I  
CT: D --> Would have thought  
GG: Mmm, go on.  
CT: D --> I’m not sure what to say  
CT: D --> I have never tasted slurry before  
CT: D --> This is quite the perversion, miss Crocker  
GG: I look forward to tasting it in person, mister Zahhak.  
GG: I’m sure it’s a taste I can readily acquire!  
GG: I’m going to lick your nook until you’re a trembling sweating mess so I can get my fill of it.

It’s a good thing your fingers are no longer in your nook because at that point, you almost convulse with the wave of concupiscent desire that swells inside you at her words, and you break the arm of the comfort block. The hand in front of your face is shaking, and you use it to silence your disgraceful chirping croon by covering your mouth.

CT: D --> xdsfbgss  
GG: Hoo hoo!  
GG: Starting to get to you, Equius?  
GG: Mmm, I admit to being a little hot and bothered myself.  
GG: Stroke your bulge for me.  
CT: D --> jane please  
GG: You really have quite a nice bulge.  
GG: Thick and more than long enough. I very much enjoyed having it inside me.

You are doing as she has told you to do, one hand plastered over your mouth to stifle the sounds you can’t stop from making and using your other to stroke yourself. Your bulge curls around your fingers and you squeeze gently, rotating your wrist and shuddering with the sparks of pleasure. Your nook clenches on nothing, empty and you groan with wanting. It’s not enough, you need more.

GG: Besides licking your nook, I think the next time I see you I should pay some attention to your bulge as well.  
GG: I’ve gotten rather good at wrangling bulge, if I may say so myself.  
GG: My mouth on your bulge and my fingers up your nook, stroking you until you spill on my face.  
GG: Or maybe some toy, I have quite a few at my disposal.  
GG: I’d look good in your colour, I think.  
CT: D --> scnoiADbnov  
CT: D --> JANE  
CT: D --> plase please Jane  
GG: Tell me what you want, Equius.  
CT: D --> My nook  
CT: D --> jane jAne please  
GG: Feed your bulge into your nook, Equius.  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> that is so  
CT: D --> depraved  
CT: D --> no i can’t  
CT: D --> that is no jane please  
GG: You want something in your nook, don’t you, Equius?  
GG: And I’m sure your bulge wants to be in something hot, but it will have to make do with something cool for now.  
GG: Put your bulge in your nook and selfpail yourself.  
GG: It’s ok, you’re doing so well, you can do this.  
GG: You’re doing it for me until I can be there and play with your nook properly, like it should be played with.  
GG: I want to make you climax, Equius.  
GG: I want you to spill your slurry all over yourself and inside yourself.  
CT: D --> ah Jane!  
CT: D --> 8h3sp0jKW4FjFdl9o7muiOw0IeidDY

You do as she tells you and the feel of your bulge plunging inside your nook like it’s being sucked inside makes you keen. It comes out on your screen as a blur of garbled text. Meaningless, useless and your hips arch off the comfort block like you could somehow find more bulge to stuff inside yourself. As though your bulge wasn’t already as deep inside as it could go, and coiling against your seedflap like it was meant to be there. Both of your hands are tight against your mouth, trying to keep back the shamefully explicit and immodestly loud chirps and trills that are trying to escape your squawkblister, exposing you to whoever may be walking down the corridor. If you had thought being walked in on with your pants around your knees and your fingers on your sheath and slit would have been bad, it is nothing compared to what could happen if someone walked in on you bulgedeep in your own nook and slurry leaking down your thighs. You would be the disgrace of the Fleet, you would never be able to look anyone in the eye again.

You’re shaking all over and you couldn’t stop yourself from doing this if you tried. You need it. You need so much so badly. You want her hands on your face and your horn. Her STRONG hands, so hot and soft and oh please. You need her. You want to smell her, and touch her, have her here with you while you shame yourself so lewdly and only for her appreciative words. You want her to see just how much she has brought you undone, how all of your dignity now lies in shards and just because she asked you to do these terrible (wonderful) things.

GG: Good boy, such a good boy.  
GG: It feels good, doesn’t it?  
GG: You are doing wonderfully for me.  
GG: Such a brave, noble stallion and so obedient, so handsome.  
CT: D --> 9CZpiew6pLk%paquAkRO  
CT: D --> oh fuck jane  
CT: D --> pleaseohfuckplease  
GG: My handsome hoofbeast. All. Mine.  
GG: You sound like you’re about done to a turn.  
GG: I’m got some ideas for when I see you next, about what I should use to tie my big strong blue stallion up with.  
GG: You’re really going to love it.  
GG: You really are such a pitiful wreck and I plan on making sure you know just how pitiable I find you.  
GG: I’m going to ride your bulge and use one of my personal toys inside your nook until you spill all over my concupiscent platform.  
GG: And inside me.  
GG: I’m going to be your personal bucket.  
CT: D --> !!!!!!!!!!!  
CT: D --> !!!!!  
CT: D --> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
GG: Mmmm, I thought that would do it.

centaursTesticle [CT]is an idle troll!

Letting out a low whine as you recover from your orgasm, you look down at yourself. You are a mess of blue slurry from stomach to ankles and you bite your lip nervously as you consider how you are going to clean up and then get back to your respite block. This is going to be...difficult. But you do not regret it. As she said you would, you feel much more relaxed now and like your mind is almost clear. Perhaps in the evening, you will find a solution to your problems. You feel like you can be hopeful.

Ugh, now you’re all slick and sticky with slurry. You wish you had had a bucket to hand, but you’re just not the sort of troll to tuck buckets into hiding spots wherever you are. It’s just not who you are. Although. Perhaps. That is not quite truthful anymore. 

Oh dear.

centaursTesticle [CT]is no longer an idle troll!

GG: So, how was that, dear?  
CT: D --> It was  
CT: D --> Wonderful  
CT: D --> I have rather a lot of mess to clean up now, however  
CT: D --> But  
CT: D --> Thank you very much  
GG: You’re very welcome!  
GG: You’re not the only one who enjoyed it, by far.  
GG: I’m going to save this log for a personal bedtime story while you’re busy.  
GG: I think I’m going to enjoy reading it a lot.  
GG :B  
GG: How long is this project going to take you?  
CT: D --> About another cycle  
CT: D --> Er  
CT: D --> Week?  
CT: D --> Then I return to normal duties  
GG: Does your ship have a transmaterializer?  
CT: D --> Yes, of course  
CT: D --> Why do you ask?  
GG: So, if I’m sending you a present where should I send it?  
CT: D --> Urrk  
CT: D --> That is not required, miss Crocker  
GG: Come on, don’t be a wet blanket!  
GG: I want to send you a present.  
GG: What cakes do you like?  
GG: I told you I like baking, so I want to send my matesprit something!  
CT: D --> <3  
CT: D --> You would need to send it to the Research Cruiser Dire Absolutism transmaterializer code JM7P5A5T, for the Engineer  
CT: D --> I routinely receive packages this way so it won’t arouse comment  
GG: Sounds like a fine plan.  
GG: I can bake almost anything, so what do you like?  
CT: D --> Jane, hoofnestly anything would be more than fine  
CT: D --> I would be pleased with any gift you cared to give  
CT: D --> I should go clean up this mess  
GG: Hoo hoo!  
GG: A little splattered, are you?  
CT: D --> Splattered would be an understatement  
CT: D --> I do not wish to cut this short but I really need to clean up befoal someone comes in  
CT: D --> I do not want to be caught  
CT: D --> Hmm  
CT: D --> With my pants down, so to speak  
GG: Sorry, not sorry. :B  
GG: Alright, you go clean up on your end and I’ll do the same here.  
GG: Keep an eye out for a little something sweet.  
GG: And pester me as soon as you’re back to normal duties.  
CT: Abso100tly, Jane, it will be my pleasure  
GG: <3  
CT: D --> <3

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering centaursTesticle [CT]

Unlacing your boots, you put them to one side and then manage to get your socks off despite how they cling to you. Getting to your bare feet, you grimace in disgust as you peel off your damp shorts and use them to scrub more slurry off your skin before discarding them. Thankfully, you have a spare set of clothes in the lab, although it’s more for if you spill acid or grease over yourself than slurry. You do not make a habit of selfpailing in your workspace.

Clothes off and shoved down the incinerator shaft, you use your towels to clean off more slurry and then carefully redress yourself. With your damp boots back on, you use your bare hands to break up the slurry-dripping chair and it soon follows your clothes. The easiest way to get rid of the evidence, to your mind, and you had already broken one arm. With your STRONGNESS, mangling the chair into incinerator sized bits is not a problem and you’ll put in a request to Stores for a new one. Your temper is not as explosive as it had been when you were still planetside, but you still have it and other trolls are aware of it. More towels mop up the remainder of the mess on the floor and you look around for anything else out of the ordinary.

You see nothing, and cover your mouth to yawn. Freeze. Back to the sinks and you wash your arms up to the elbows, scrubbing to get the slurry out from underneath your claws and you finally feel like you are free to go. Anything you’ve missed could be explained away at this point, and your exhaustion has crept up on you. You’re swaying on your feet and you leave your work block, not even thinking of your ongoing problems with the Helmsman project and the self-righteous attitude you will face from Captor in the evening that is now only a few hours away.

A recuperacoon sounds like the best thing in the galaxy, in the universe, to you right now.

Maybe you’ll even sleep past twilight for once.

You're just about to climb inside the pod and slip into sopor when you realised what Jane had meant when she said she would need to clean up on her end as well, and only chance saves you from slamming your head against the lip of your recuperacoon.


	7. Chapter 7

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering cuttlefishCuller [CC]

GG: Feferi, are you available to chat?  
CC: No need to be bass)(ful, Jane!  
CC: W)(at did you want me for?  
GG: I wanted to ask you for a favour, actually.  
CC: O)(? W)(at kind of favour?  
GG: A sexy kind of favour!  
CC: Ooo)(, my favourite kind!!!  
GG: Hoo hoo! I thought it would be! :B  
GG: Do you know Equius?  
CC: Of course, w)(y?  
GG: Just how strong do you think restraints would need to be in order to keep him chained to, hmm, a concupiscent platform?  
CC: 38O ! Glub glub!  
CC: T)(at IS a sexy favour!!!!!!  
CC: I’m not ---ENTIR---ELY s)(ore I s)(oald s)(ell you, MISS CAK-E ----EMPR---ESS  
CC: T)(at could be very impearltant infis)(mation to t)(e ALT-ERNIAN -----EMPIR-E!  
CC: W)(at sort of rayson mackerels you ask me?  
GG: I’ll ask you to keep it on the down low for the time being, as I’m still working on it and nothing has been signed as yet.  
GG: You’ll find out soon enough anyway when I send it through the proper channels, but...  


gutsyGumshoe [GG] has sent cuttlefishCuller [CC]a file!  
CC: Matesprits)(ip quadrant pail-exemption documents?  
CC: -Equius? R--E--ELLY?  
GG: He is very pitiable when you get down to brass tacks.  
GG: I am just waiting for the minimum waiting time since initial contact to pass so I can submit them.  
CC: If you spray so, I GU-ESS!   
CC: I’ll )(ook into t)(is for you, Jane and see if I can’t get somefin made up.  
CC: O)(, I prow!   
CC: We’ll mako it a )(---EART C--ER--EMONY gift!  
CC: You’re PR-ETTY muc)( t)(e ---EMPR---ESS of t)(e )(umans, we s)(oald probubbly mako t)(e occasion of you formally flus)(ing one of oar subjects wave somefin N-----EAT!!!!  
CC: We missed doing it groperly wit)( t)(e Mirt)(ful w)(en you went in spades wave )(im.  
CC: ----------ERIDAN is still twitting me ABOAT IT!!! 38P  
GG: Whoa, nelly! Hold your horses right there, Feferi, dear.  
GG: Equius will faint if he thinks the Empress is involved in his matespritship.  
GG: And I haven’t quite told him about where I stand in the hierarchy of the HFA!  
GG: I just got him; I don’t want him broken until I get the chance to do it to my exact specifications. :B  
CC: 38))  
CC: You’re R---E----ELLY a naug)(ty sort of gill.  
CC: I PIK-E IT! 38D  
CC: )(oki, I’ll )(old off on t)(e offis)(ial acknowledgements for now.  
CC: But you will let me prow w)(en I can do somet)(ing NIC-E for you and yoar new matesprit!  
CC: And S)(OV-E it rig)(t in ---ERIDAN’S FAC---E!  
GG: I thought Karkat was auspiticing between you two?  
CC: O)(, )(e is!  
CC: And )(e does a V--ERY good job too!  
CC: I just PIK-E s)(oving t)(ings I’m doing in a proper, IMP-ERIAL way in ----ERIDAN’S FAC---E!  
CC: BAM! POW! 38)  
GG: Alrighty, if that’s what makes you happy. You’re a funny fish, Feferi!  
CC: Glub glub glub!  
CC: )(e just can’t sand )(ow w)(alu I’m doing wit)( trout )(im as my moray-eel!  
GG: While we’re on the topic of moirails...  
GG|: How’s Jade working out, by the by?  
CC: S)(e’s doing R-E-ELLY SW-ELL.  
CC: I’m doing a lot moray conc)(iliating t)(an I t)(oug)(t I would!  
CC: S)(e’s a F----EISTY ON----E!!!!  
CC: 38)   
CC: But I F-E-EL like s)(e’s R-E-ELLY LIST-ENS to me.  
CC: And w)(en I s)(ell )(er MY PROBL---EMS, s)(e acs)(oally pays attention and gives good advice.  
CC: Not waiting for me to stop so s)(e can jump back in!  
CC: 38(  
CC: -ERIDAN just never LIST-EN-ED.  
CC: I prow w)(y now, of course, but t)(at’s w)(y Krabcakes is t)(ere to stop us krilling eac)( ot)(er over t)(e conc)(ference table.  
CC: JAD--E is GR----EAT!  
GG: I’m so happy to hear that she’s doing splendidly, and not just because she came from a certain percentage of my genes.  
GG: I would have found another Terran officer, if she wasn’t working out. I want the moirallegiance to work for you, Feferi.  
GG: I’m finding out more and more how central moirallegiance is for trolls.  
GG: I’m still a little sorry that we demanded that as part of the official treaty, but I thought that it was the best quadrant to ask for.  
CC: Don’t apologize, Jane!  
CC: It was for t)(e best, and it’s one of t)(e most VISIBL----E, D---EFINITIV---E t)(ings we could )(ave done to cement amicable diplomatic ties between )(umans and trolls.  
CC: Jade is very troll-like in some ways!  
CC: And )(uman in ot)(er very good ways!  
CC: S)(e’s a very good moray-eel to me.  
CC: We’re netting on just FIN-------E! 38)  
GG: Hoo hoo hoo! I guess I’ve been told what’s what. :B  
GG: Well, I might just skedaddle then.  
GG: Let me know when you’ve got some info on the upper limits of Equius’ strength.  
CC: I’ve never --EV--EN t)(oug)(t about )(aving to tie )(im up!  
CC: I don’t know if anemone -EV-ER )(as.  
CC: )(e’s never been a probubblem, unlike some ot)(er trolls I could name.  
GG: I want to surprise him with some cuffs he won’t break.  
GG: He’s so precious when he’s trying to be good for me, but I want him to be able to let go a little next time!  
GG: I want him to be able to relax for once.  
CC: 380  
CC: It R-E-ELLY )(as to be true pity, if you’re talking aboat )(im like sprat.  
CC: Also, gross, littoral miss OV----ER S)(AR----E. 38/  
CC: I’ll glub wit)( you later, Jane. I )(ave a roomful of admiralty waiting for me!  
GG: You should have said, silly.   
GG: I can’t keep the Empress of Alternia from her important Imperial things for my plottings for a quadrant gift!  
CC: But t)(is was muc)( mora fun! -Even if it was aboat, eugh, Equius.  
CC: T)(ey’re suc)( stuffy old tusktoot)(-aquabeasts.  
GG: That’s my possible matesprit you’re eurghing about there, you realise.   
GG: I think he’s pretty nifty.  
GG: :B  
CC: 38P  
GG: Twenty-three skidoo, miss Peixes!  
CC: Bye, Jane.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering cuttlefishCuller [CC]


	8. Chapter 8

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]

AC :33 < *the great and mighty huntress spots her prey from her purrsition hidden in the tr33s!*  
AC :33 < *her glorious tail lashes in anticipurrtion*  
AC :33 < *in a mewment, she shall pounce and devour the hopbeast!*  
GG: Oh, hello!  
GG: Is this Nepeta?  
AC :33 < mew yes  
AC :33 < equihiss doesnt know i can get into his husktop  
AC :33 < and obviously hes b33n talking to you a pawful lot lately!  
AC :33 < getting your chumhandle was not a purroblem  
AC :33 < so i wanted to talk with you miss blue crocker human!  
AC :33 < you make equihiss very happy!  
GG: I hope so, he makes me happy as well.  
GG: Has he spoken to you about how he feels about signing the exemption paperwork?  
GG: I did spring it on him, a little. I didn’t mean to pressure him, if he’s changed his mind.  
GG: Or if you think he’s hesitant in any way and just not letting me know.  
AC :33 < its fine! i told him he should sign it meownestly  
AC :33 < im really glad he met you at the purrty   
AC :33 < but i did want to let you know one thing, miss crocker human!  
GG: Jane’s fine, Nepeta, I would like to think that we’ll get on just dandy.  
GG: Especially since you’re the moirail of my potential matesprit.  
AC :33 < okeydokey jane! you s33m to be a nice person so ill be blunt  
AC :33 < if you hurt my moirail in any way  
AC :33 < i will hunt you down wherever you are  
AC :33 < and eat your cardiopusher like it was a delicious squeakbeast  
AC :33 < and theyll nefur find your body!  
AC :33 < :DD  
AC :33 < ive nefur eaten human before  
AC :33 < but the alternianet articles say you taste like oinkbeast strips!  
AC :33 < i will put it to the test if you meowke me  
AC :33 < i like musclebeast the best but i dont mind oinkbeast fur a change  
GG: ...well, that certainly was one ding dong doozy of a threat. :B  
GG: Nice and detailed, yet wonderfully blunt.  
GG: I appreciate the forthrightness of your feelings for your moirail, Nepeta.  
GG: I certainly don’t have any plans to hurt Equius in any way he wouldn’t enjoy.  
AC :33 < oh i do think im gonna like you!  
AC :33 < equihiss pities you a lot!  
AC :33 < besides im behind in my moirail duties  
AC :33 < a humans already tried to scare off equihiss  
GG: Did they now.  
GG: Any clues as to who that human could be?  
GG: *strokes her moustache*  
AC :33 < we dont know who  
AC :33 < oh!  
AC :33 < *the furocious meowbeast asks* does the hopbeast rolepurrlay too?  
GG: Hoo hoo hoo!  
GG: It’s not really my cup of tea, but I do know a few humans who do.  
GG: I just know enough to play along for a little while.  
GG: If I passed on your handle, would you mind?  
AC :33 < that would be fine!  
AC :33 < i dont get to play as much as i would like now im not a wiggler anymore  
AC :33 < but it would be nice to have some mew beasts to chat with  
AC :33 < and if were in quadrant corners then we should get to know each others clade  
AC :33 < dont mew think so jane?  
GG: That sounds like a swell idea, Nepeta!  
GG: By the bye, do you mind if I ask you about what Equius likes in terms of cakes and sweets?  
GG: He says he’d be happy with anything when I ask him, and I just can’t pin him down.  
GG: I want to make him something he’d really like!  
GG: Not just something he’d tell me he liked. Do you know what I mean?  
AC :33 < well i guess you should know hes vegetarian  
AC :33 < humans have that right?  
AC :33 < no meat eating?  
GG: We certainly do!  
GG: Well, I think you just saved me from a very grave misstep at some point down the line.  
GG: Thank you, Nepeta.  
AC :33 < purr welcome!  
AC :33 < and he likes milk  
GG: Milk?  
AC :33 < mmhmm!  
AC :33 < his lusus used to give him milk all the time when he was a wriggler  
AC :33 < its hard to get shipside  
AC :33 < doesnt k33p very well and other trolls dont really drink it  
AC :33 < so no one bothers to expurrt it offplanet in any sort of quantity  
GG: You know, I think I actually have an idea.  
GG: Thank you again!  
AC :33 < youre welcome miss fl33t admiral!  
GG: Looks like the jig’s up!  
GG: Don’t tell Equius yet, please?  
GG: I am going to tell him, I pinkie swear.  
GG: But I need to think of the right way.  
AC :33 < i like secrets as much as the next purrbeast but if you dont tell him soon  
AC :33 < well  
AC :33 < i cant be expected to keep secrets from my meowrail furever  
GG: I understand. Thank you.  
GG: I seem to be saying that a lot in this chat, hoo hoo hoo!  
AC :33 < hed never think to look you up in troogle you know?  
AC :33 < thats really all it would take and hed know!   
AC :33 < it wasnt much of a hunt kind of boring in a way  
AC :33 < i have to look out for him  
AC :33 < a ferocious purrbeast is much more sneaky than the honourable hoofbeast  
AC :33 < he wont fall in any hissnoodle pits while im looking out for him!  
GG: It’s easy to see why you’re the best moirail for him.  
GG: I will tell him soon, but I don’t want him to be overwhelmed by my rank.  
GG: It’s really not who I am, in a lot of ways.  
GG: It was just something I fell into, mostly because of my family and my friends.  
GG: And then once I was in charge, I just kept being in charge because otherwise we were all going to die.  
GG: You know our two species didn’t meet under the best of terms! :B  
AC :33 < oh i defurinately understand wanting to keep something back so that the other person can get to know the real you without the thing in the way!  
AC :33 < and equihiss can be really weird about things like rank and hierarchy  
AC :33 < but you should tell him soon  
AC :33 < ok ive got to go  
AC :33 < it was nice m33ting you jane!  
GG: Likewise, Nepeta!  
GG: You’re one swell sort of dame.  
GG: I really appreciate all your help, and your understanding as well.  
AC :33 < bye jane! well talk soon, maybe even in purrson!  
GG: Goodbye, Nepeta.  
GG: I’m looking forward to it.

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]


	9. Chapter 9

adiosToreador [AT] began trolling centaursTesticle [CT]

AT: uH,  
AT: eQUIUS,  
AT: aRE YOU AROUND AT ALL,  
CT: D --> I can be, briefly  
CT: D --> What do you require, lowb100d?  
AT: uH, tHE THING IS, i AM PRETTY SURE THAT,, yOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO CALL ME THAT,,, aNYMORE,  
AT: wHILE IT IS TRUE THAT MY BLOOD TYPE IS LOWER THAN YOURS, tHAT IS NOT ALL THAT I AM,  
AT: aND I HAVE MORE SELF-CONFIDENCE NOW, wHICH IS SOMETHING YOU SHOULD KNOW AND I HAVE NOW MADE YOU AWARE OF,  
AT: uH, yOU REALLY SHOULD,,,, tHINK ABOUT HOW YOU TALK TO OTHER TROLLS OF A DIFFERENT BLOODCASTE THAN YOU, eQUIUS, iT’S KIND OF MEAN,  
CT: D --> I have work to do so if all you have contacted me for is this  
CT: D --> I am going to leave  
AT: nO, wAIT,  
AT: eQUIUS,  
AT: tHERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY LEGS,  
CT: D --> What?  
CT: D --> What ship are you on?  
AT: wE HAVEN’T SPOKEN IN A WHILE,, aND IT MAY COME AS A SURPRISE TO YOU WHAT MY JOB IS NOW,  
AT: bECAUSE WHERE I AM IS RELATED TO THAT POSITION,,,, aND YOU KNOW, yOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE MAD AT ME ABOUT IT,  
AT: bECAUSE LIKE I SAID BEFORE, i HAVE SELF CONFIDENCE NOW,,, aND UH, yOU KNOW THAT THE EMPRESS HAS SAID THAT COOLBLOODS NEED TO  
AT: uH, bE MORE ACCEPTING AND OPEN TO WARMBLOODS LIKE MYSELF BEING IN POSITIONS OF AUTHORITY,  
CT: D --> Nitram  
CT: D --> What ship?  
CT: D --> I need to know so I can begin to make plans to connect with you as soon as possible  
CT: D --> Cease babbling and give me the information  
AT: i’M THE ALTERNIAN AMBASSADOR TO THE HUMAN FEDERATED ALLIANCE AND I’M ON THE FLAGSHIP OF THEIR FLEET  
CT: D --> Hrrk  
AT: oK, iF YOU’RE SWEATING AND NEED A TOWEL OR SOMETHING PLEASE DON’T TELL ME,  
AT: tHAT WAS ALWAYS,  
AT: kIND OF GROSS,  
CT: D --> I am going to ignore that piece of impudence  
CT: D --> I assume that you have some sway with both the Earthian leadership and our own then  
CT: D --> I am currently chief enginihilator on the research and development cruiser Dire Absolutism  
CT: D --> You will need to submit an emergency work request for my services and ask for an immediate transfer to the Earthian flagship for the duration of the work request  
CT: D --> If you have contacted me like this, I assume the problem is either ominous or becoming so  
CT: D --> If your request is refused, contact Vantas if you can  
CT: D --> He should be able to speak directly to the Benefice and countermand the dismissal  
AT: wOW, oK, i WASN’T ACTUALLY EXPECTING YOU TO BE WILLING TO HELP  
AT: aT LEAST NOT LIKE THIS,  
CT: D --> Do not take this the wrong way, lowb100d  
CT: D --> I take pride in my work, and that is all this is  
AT: wELL,  
AT: wHATEVER THE REASON, yOUR ASSISTANCE IS APPRECIATED AND ESPECIALLY HOW YOU SEEM TO KNOW JUST WHAT TO DO TO GET WHAT IS REQUIRED TO ACHIEVE NEEDED AIMS FROM THE MILITARY HIERARCHY WE LIVE IN,  
AT: aLTHOUGH, tHE NAMES YOU CALL ME ARE LESS SO,  
AT: yOU SHOULD STOP DOING THAT,  
CT: D --> Hrrk  
CT: D --> Was that an order?  
CT: D --> No, I don’t need to be distracted now  
CT: D --> I am going to wrap up my current projects in the anticipation that I will soon have a work order for your repairs in my inbo% shortly  
CT: D --> And then we shall see how quickly I can transfer ships  
AT: wHAT ABOUT YOUR MOIRAIL,  
AT: dO YOU NEED HER, sHOULD I ASK FOR HER TO ACCOMPANY YOU,  
AT: yOU KNOW THERE ARE EXEMPTIONS FOR HIGHBLOODS AND THEIR MOIRAILS  
CT: D --> I do not think this will take long  
CT: D --> And she has her own work duties  
CT: D --> Do you believe I will need her stabilising influence?  
AT: i DON’T THINK SO, aND YOU WILL MOSTLY BE WITH ME I THINK,  
AT: tHAT SHOULD MEAN THAT YOU WILL NOT REQUIRE THE STABLISING INFLUENCE OF A MOIRAIL, uNLESS YOU FIND HUMANS PARTICULARLY AGGRAVATING AND FRUSTRATING IN SOME WAY,  
AT: dO YOU,  
CT: D --> Aggravating is not the word I would use, no  
CT: D --> I will bring a prototype with me  
CT: D --> I have had some ideas for increasing the functionality of your prostheses  
CT: D --> Particularly the neural networking  
CT: D --> If I am to leave my worklabs, I am going to do this properly  
AT: uHHH, wELL, tHAT SOUNDS GOOD  
AT: i’LL GO, uH, aND MAKE SURE THESE ORDERS GO THROUGH  
CT: D --> Good

centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling  adiosToreador [AT] 

AT: uH, oK,  
AT: bYE THEN, eQUIUS,

adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling centaursTesticle [CT]


	10. Chapter 10

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]

AC :OO < jane!  
AC :33 < incoming!  
AC :33 < if you had a plan to tell equihiss about your rank i think you just ran out of time!  
GG: Wait, Nepeta, slow down!  
GG: What do you mean?  
AC :33 < equihiss just had orders to relocate to the human flagship for a workorder  
GG: Oh fuck.  
GG: FUCK.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [AC] 

AC :33 < you better not fuck this up or so help me!  
AC DDX < mighty huntress, human pusher, delicious squeakbeast!

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]


	11. Chapter 11

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering tipsyGnolstagic [TG]

GG: Roxy.  
GG: Oh my god, Roxy.  
GG: You know how I disappeared at the HFA/AE alliance party in heated pursuit of a particularly well-dressed troll?  
TG: um  
TG: liek yeah duh janeybabe  
TG: subtle u werent  
GG: And that I have been talking to him since then, and there is a potential flushed quadrant in the works?  
TG: i thought so! u been real happy lately  
TG: youve really taken to this troll romance thing  
TG: the clown is kinda creepy tho, i hope this one is less weird  
GG: I think I’ve really messed up this time, Roxy.  
GG: I’m so darn stupid!  
TG: uh oh  
GG: He has no idea that I’m the Fleet Admiral and heiress to Crocker Corp and he’s coming to the flagship.  
GG: I don’t know how he’s going to take it but I don’t think it will be well.  
GG: Intimidated, I think, is probably the best I could hope for.  
GG: I don’t know what to do!  
GG: Roxy, I really like him and I think I might have ruined things when we’ve barely even started.  
TG: aw janey bb  
TG: its gonna b ok  
TG: we gonna get you fixed up  
TG: mama rox is gonna help u fix ur woes  
GG: He’s out of transible range, since he’s currently in warp.  
GG: I wouldn’t know he was coming except his moirail messaged me.  
GG: I usually don’t put much stock in threats, but I think she’s quite serious about her promise to eat my heart if I break Equius’.  
TG: um wow  
TG: u rlly sure u wanna be involved wth all these trolls?  
TG: ur v important to us janey  
TG: n i need my bestie with her heart where it belongs and not been eaten by a troll  
TG: dont leave me alone with all these crazy strileyengbertlondes  
TG: i will cry  
TG: i will cry so much  
TG: don't leave me this way and at the mercy of these crazy ppl  
GG: Roxy.  
GG: You’re a Lalonde.  
TG: then i obv kno whut im talkin bout!  
TG: i need sum crocker in my life to keep shit real  
TG: been thinkin how u gonna sort this mess out  
TG: ok. u gonna whip up some real nice thing fr him  
TG: and as soon as he hits the deck  
TG: u gotta front up about um  
TG: u didnt lie for real, did u?  
GG: No, I just didn’t...mention, I haven’t lied and said I’m of a lower rank or something like that.  
GG: I think he knows I must be an officer and rather high up in Terran leadership.  
GG: Just not quite how high.  
GG: I was so sure I’d have more time, that we could get to know each other better before all that hoopdelally got in the way.  
GG: That by the time I told him, it wouldn’t matter because he’d really be in flush, not just infatuated.  
GG: When we converse over the written messaging system, we just talk about silly little things, like how much he likes horses and what I’m baking and it’s.  
GG: Good gravy, listen to me blather.  
GG: I sound like a teenage girl in the throes of her first crush.  
GG: I dealt with the whole Makara situation much more appropriately.  
TG: ah ah  
TG: that was spades  
TG: and this is hearts  
TG: different quadrants! this one is all about pity if i did my trollology hw right  
TG: and u knew gamz way longer before you jumped into his creepy juggalo arms for a hatemance  
TG: this is a whirlwind romance  
TG: u gotta think about what u want outta this, janeyjane mgirl  
TG: what he wants too, cos its not like ur alone here  
GG: He trusts me.  
GG: I don’t want him to think that I’ve broken his trust somehow.  
GG: I wasn’t actually planning on this being more than a one night stand but the way he just.  
GG: I’ve never had someone react to me like that before.  
GG: He just went down, Roxy, like I'd whanged him over the head with a frying pan.  
GG: It was amazing. Humbling too.  
TG: man i am interested to meet this dude  
TG: u need to do something b4 he talks to tavviecutiepie  
TG: he’ll let the cat out of the bag for sure  
TG: navcom says u got some time before the lil booger drops out of warp  
TG: we can figure out something  
TG: why dont you come around to my quarters  
TG: we’ll have some girl timez  
GG: That sounds so tempting, would it really be alright?  
GG: I know you’re busy with your work on streamlining the Alternian tech to match up with Terran equipment.  
GG: Honestly, I have oodles of work I should be doing myself but I have obviously decided instead that I am an utter adolescent who needs to whine about her boyfriend problems.  
GG: Problems entirely of my own making and device, at that.  
GG: God.  
GG: Why does anyone think I can run this hootenanny.  
GG: What am I even doing, Roxy?  
GG: Someone should take all this power away from me immediately and give it to someone with fewer neuroses.  
TG: gurl i have a carton of frozen milk confectionary with ur name on it  
TG: we’ll watch one of those terrible troll romcoms, maybe an ash one, and we’ll argue about the best way to deploy your cupcakes for max bae shoosh fx  
TG: it’ll be fun, we’ll talk, we’ll get a lot of stuff out and eat our combined weight in sugar  
TG: youll feel better  
GG: That sure sounds like the bee’s knees, Roxy, thank you. You're a real good friend, you know.  
GG: I’ll be there in a shake of a lamb’s tail.  
TG: kk ill get things rollin here  
TG: c u soon babe

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering tipsyGnolstagic [TG]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girls being friends with each other is so so important.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please imagine Equius as having been drawn by Liefield in terms of being covered in miscellaneous pouches for his entry, thank you very much. (But not quite so many rippling muscles or triangular faux-feet because no one deserves that omg blehhhhh) 
> 
> (Actually I bet Troll Liefield’s religious art is praised because of how much muscle he can pack onto one musclebeast hahaha!)
> 
> (Troll Liefield. Pfff.)

When you step off the patrolboat’s shuttle into the airlock of the human flagship, all you can feel is ache and exhaustion. You’re carrying two heavy-duty multiuse bags in either grasper stuffed full of tools and parts, you have a biogrub nursery sack on your back and you jingle with every step from the tools strapped along your hips and thorax. Usually when you come off the Helmsman project (still unsolved, you remain certain of your sight orb surgical replacement scheme but you have to convince Sollux to offer it up for consideration to the Benefice first), you have a few cycles to rest and come off your obsessive focus. You eat, you bathe, you spend time with your moirail that isn’t revolving around your lack of ability to self-care when you’re fixed in the throes of problem solving, and you relax. A little.

Besides the wonderfully welcome, hideously shameful interlude with Jane at the turnpoint of the Helmsman-designated work period, you have had little time to relax in the last few cycles. Not that you normally do at all, really – the party where you had met Jane had been an exception, at first unwelcome and which you now consider almost serendipitous in its fortuity. Speaking with your moirail and getting to know your (possible, probable, almost certain) matesprit over Trollian have been moments of brightness and pleasure in what feels like sweeps of drudgery and frustration. You’re dressed for work in utility leg-coverings and one of your usual tops with your sign on it, blue against the functional black, boots laced up to your knees for support and protection. Looking at you, no one would know your rank or your hard earned title and sometimes you prefer it that way. You’re here to _work_ , and you don’t really care what the humans think of you and the way you present yourself.

“I’m here for the Ambassador, there should be labs set aside for me,” you tell the human who opens the airlock door and you step through. You note his rank badge, and feel again how strange it is to be allied to a species that is just so. Well. Soft. He’s not even carrying a weapon, not a knife, not anything. “Captain Zahhak. Enginihilator.” You yawn widely, unable to stop yourself or hide it since both of your hands are currently occupied. You’re glad you tied your hair back so tightly, so there’s not a hope of some stray lock falling out to get in your eyes. “Excuse me.”

“Captain Zahhak. Welcome aboard the _ISS Valentina Tereshkova_. We’ve been expecting your arrival - I’ve orders to see you to your respiteblock or your workblock. Which would you prefer?”

“Workblock first. Then respiteblock. I’ll speak with Ambassador Nitram after a few hours of sleep, if you could let him know I have arrived on ship.”

“Yes, sir. Follow me.”

The soldier’s voice is nicely deferential and his salute is crisp, and you enjoy it as you follow him along the curving ship corridors. They look different to a troll ship, the height is wrong and so is the curve of the metal, and you’re glad for your shades in the harsh lighting – it’s stronger than it was when you had attended for the party, and you recognise very little of what you pass. They must have turned down the lights for the trolls attending, and this must be how bright Earthians usually have things. In fact, you think you might swap your current facewear somehow for something a little more moulded to your face and more light-blocking. It feels wrong, being awake in so much light. You can feel a pan-ache starting already, and you have to wonder how the lowblood deals with it on a permanent basis.

You will persevere and push through it, but you hope you can dim things a little in your own workspace. You probably shouldn’t make permanent alterations to someone else’s workblock, that would be impolite. Maybe you’ll just set up your own lights and leave these others off permanently. You’ll probably get better focus that way. Your long legs eat up the distance as the human leads you along corridors and into elevators – you’re going to need a map. Something so you can find your own way about, you hate being dependent on other people’s directions. 

Rubbing the bridge of your sniffnode between two fingers, you squint your eyes closed for a moment and then almost run up the back of the soldier as he comes to a halt in front of a door. It appears that you have arrived at your destination. You watch as he opens it with a press of his thumb to the lock, and then he gestures to you. 

“If you could look here, Captain Zahhak? The door will key itself to your retinal scan so that your work isn’t disturbed while you’re on ship.”

You follow his directions, stooping a little and pulling down your shades so the scanner can read your sight orb. You’re tearing up a little in the light, but it shouldn’t impede the scan. It’s obvious why he didn’t ask you to put your hand into the scanner – your palm is far too broad for the reader, and you don’t think that trolls have fingerprints quite the same way humans do either. Wiping underneath your sight orbs as surreptitiously as you can to clean away indigo-tinted ocular fluid, you enter the room after your human guide.

The room you step into isn’t empty, but it is close to it. Looking around, you take note of the benches and cupboards, the freestanding tool stations, and nod slightly to yourself. This you can work with. You’re not familiar with everything but you assume that once you ascertain purpose, you will be able to use them skilfully enough. You have some of your own tools with you as well, and you certainly hope that you will be able to repair Nitram’s robotics with what you have with you. Something would have to be direfully wrong if you can’t.

“This will suffice.” Putting first one heavy carrysack and then the second on one of the empty benches, the bags hitting with a hollow thunk against the metal of the workbench. Carrying them hadn’t been a problem for you, not with your great STRONGNESS but you admit that you’re glad to put them down. Privately, at least. You don’t think any other troll could have carried such weights as easily as you had but even for you, they had had some weight. There had been quite a few things that you hadn’t been sure if humans would have the same or something similar, so you have brought quite a lot of parts and tools with you. “I will need something that the Ambassador can lie on top of as well. Could you have some warmth planes and comfort lumps sent down? And uh.” You press your fingers to just that sore point between your eyes again. “I. Hmm. A powersource?”

“Ah...there’s one here, sir.” 

You pull the biogrub nursery off your back and kneel down next to where the human has indicated. Thankfully, this you’ve prepared for. One of the earliest things to be produced, albeit on a limited basis, was a series of human-troll/troll-human power convertors. Their elektricitee is different in a number of essential and fundamental ways to the power produced by psionic trolls. Making the conversion units hadn’t been one of your projects, but you’re sure it must have been an interesting one. The units work well enough, but you wonder sometimes if you could make them better. You have about three currently pulled to pieces on your personal project table in your worklab, just to see if you can. Inserting the unit, you plug in the biosack’s wires into the other half and carefully pull the top of the softly pulsing bag upwards until the carry tripod pops out and you can release your grip. 

Inside there is a series of soft skreeees from the disturbed biogrubs that you are quite sure would be beneath the human audible level, a beneficial thing; the aliens tend to be quite disturbed by the variety of grubs that are an integral part of troll technology. Also grubloaf, grubsauce, grubcorn and so on. Personally, you agree as far as the grub-based food products are concerned, but you have never liked the taste of meat. The gamegrubs, husktops, shuttleskitters and other insect-based devices have always just been a part of your life and letting a neurogrub or other biotech implant skitter or slime around your fingers prior to installation is not something that concerns you very much. It’s just part of your job.

Doublechecking the status of the biogrub nursery, you nod as you’re satisfied that it will continue to nurture them once you’ve left the room. You’ve babied them all the way from the Absolutism; there is no replacement for these grubs. Metal parts you can make or repurpose, the grubs are strictly trollish and. These are special. Grub-techbreeding has been something you picked up after you left the planet and got pulled into the Helmsman project. With these, you should be able to increase the functionality and sensation of Nitram’s prostheses, you’re sure of yourself and your findings. Your work. One hundred per cent certain. You do not understand why Captor does not trust your suggestions for the Helmsman project. Your suggestions are perfectly reasonable.

You honestly do not understand why he is so upset by the idea of grafting robotic oculars into the hypothetical Helmsmen; your replacements would probably be an improvement.

You get the human soldier to help you unpack the rest of your equipment, getting used to the space, to the feel of the workshop as you do. For a temporary area, it will suit you well enough. At least it is supposed, you will not have to work around humans. This space is yours; you suppose it must be for Nitram’s benefit in the end, since an uncluttered and unencumbered repairtroll would be better for him. Every blink of your eyes, even behind the shelter of your light-blocking lenses, sends daggers of light through your pan and you’re glad when you’re finally done, and you can follow the soldier to your respite block.

Your bags are much lighter now, not holding much personal inside them. Some changes of clothes and a considerable supply of blueblood strength sopor patches, since you weren’t sure if they would have a recuperacoon big enough for you on the ship. And you get violent, without sopor. Your temper becomes even more frayed and unstable, and you are without your moirail. Any troll would, but with your STRONGNESS and highblood nature, it is more of a concern. Especially on a human ship, where they would be unused to the damage a highblood on a rampage can produce and unprepared to stop it. 

“Here, sir.” Again, you have your eye scanned and you feel some reassurance at the idea of your slumber being undisturbed. You do not deal well with being woken up by an unexpected visitor. The only one who could do so without risk is your moirail, and she is star systems distant. The berth they have given you seems to be at least two rooms, which is surprising and also something that you appreciate. You enter into what you would classify as a combination nutrition and recreational block with table and chairs, and you must suppose that through the door you can see is your respiteblock and hopefully an ablutionsblock as well. You can cope with public ablutions; you would really rather not. “Do you have an information slate, Captain Zahhak? Or a husktop? I can get you set up on our systems now and you’ll be able to access the information directories and maps. We’re connected to the Alternianet as well.” 

“Uh, yes.” Fumbling in one of your bags, you pull out your worn information slate and although you don’t hand it over to the soldier to manipulate, with his assistance, you get yourself connected to the human computer systems. The slate itself is one of your backups that you have had wiped before you installed the schematics for Nitram’s repairs and previous prostheses work onto it, and nothing else. There is no backdoor from it to more confidential work. While you are here, you will not discuss much over Trollian besides what you are working on and private things with your moirail, although not too private – they would be fools not to spy on you, if they can. You may be allies with humans, but there are things that you work with that can not become part of their knowledge. At least, they will not learn it from you due to any action you could have taken to prevent that situation from arising.

As much as you feel a tremulous pity for one human in particular, you do not really trust the species as a whole. They had been at war with the Condesce for a number of sweeps before the Benefice had extended her offer of alliance, and an Alternian invasion force was not something that was easily forgotten. Or forgiven. Best to keep some distance between, even if the Empress was in pale with one. And you are in flush with one. And that same human is also in spades with the Grand Highblood of the Mirthful Church, who is moirails with one of the Alternian Empire’s leading officers and auspitice to the Empress and her Lord Orphaner. Fiddlesticks. Maybe this is their secret invasion plan - get to know all of Alternia’s secrets by moving into the quadrants and quadrant corners of important trolls.

But that doesn’t explain you then, not truly. You are not that important, despite your blood. Under Nepeta’s urgings, you had thrown your lot in with the rebellion and taken over the mechanical work that the Benefice had needed performed. You can remember the days without sopor, little food, when the only thing that had kept you from flying off the handle was your moirail’s hand on your cheek, shooshpapping you into something similar to calmness. Things are much more comfortable now. Your work is fulfilling, your moirail is happy and you are something like content. With Jane...you don’t have words for what she can make you feel. You do not want to lose her, and you have not even known her for a sweep. She makes you feel.  


She makes you _feel_.

Collapsing into the comfortblock near the nutrition platform once the soldier is gone, you take a moment just to breathe. You are just so gosh darn tired. Still, there are a few things you will need to do before you nap, so you can be refreshed for your first look at Nitram’s prostheses. With aching hands, you unhook your toolbelt from around your hips and place it on the table with a heavy clank. You feel like you can reward yourself a little, and you really should talk to your moirail. And maybe after...

Tilting your head back and blinking, you open up Trollian. 

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

CT: D --> Nepeta  
AC :33 < equihiss!  
AC :33 < how was your flight?  
AC :33 < did you get to the human ship ok?  
CT: D --> Yes, everything is perfectly fine  
CT: D --> My workblock is adequate and I should be able to canter out my repairs properly  
CT: D --> I marely wanted to let you know I had arrived safely  
CT: D --> And then I am going to sleep for a few hours  
CT: D --> It was the middle of the day when I arrived on the human ship and I feel rather e%hausted  
AC :33 < better to do things when youre furesh!  
AC :33 < im sure tavros would prefur it too  
AC :33 < alright, off to sopor with you, meowster! i dont want to keep you up just to chat  
AC :33 < troll me when you wake up, ok?  
AC :33 < i miss you already  
CT: D --> I miss you too  
CT: D --> <>  
AC :33 < <>!!!

centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

And after your moirail...Jane. You are truly looking forward to talking to her.

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG]

CT: D --> Jane?  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Fiddlesti%, I’m not sure how to say this  
CT: D --> I have been relocated to one of the human ships for a work order  
CT: D --> I suppose  
CT: D --> It would be too much to hope that it is your ship  
CT: D --> There must be millions of ships in the human fleet  
GG: Well, maybe not quite millions but there are a fair few of them!  
GG: We’re a fairly prolific race but we’re nowhere near on the level of you trolls.  
GG: Must be easier when you can outsource breeding on an industrialised scale the way you do.  
GG: We’re not quite there yet, and still do most of ours the mammalian way.  
GG: :B  
CT: D --> Jane that really is quite  
CT: D --> Oh my  
GG: Scandalised you again, huh?  
CT: D --> Um  
CT: D --> A little  
GG: You really should not go into your respiteblock then, if that little comment is all it takes, buster.  
GG: It’s very, very lewd in here.

You turn your head towards the unobtrusive door and then get slowly to your feet. Walking to it, you put your hand on its opening-stick and hesitate, just for a moment, and then you open it. Even for you, there’s not a lot of light but you can see that there’s a body sprawled out on the concupiscent platform. Watching you enter by soft, underfoot lighting. Your mouth dries out and you take a hesitant step towards the platform as though you are drawn there on magnets.

centaursTesticle [CT]  has disconnected!

“Wow, you really took your time getting here!” Jane laughs from her prone position, and sits up, running her hand through her hair. You can smell her scent, soft and warm, animal, and something...sweet? Sugar. That is definitely sugar. You take another step closer, your eyes adjusting to the dimness easily so you can see how the soft light makes her skin glow. Just a little. She is entirely without clothing, you can see it from how the gentle light bathes her dark skin against the pale sheets on the platform, the way she’s presented herself for your eyes. “You take your work very seriously, don’t you? Made sure you were all properly set out, contacted the people you pity before you even thought about taking a rest for yourself. You’re such a dutiful boy, Equius. You really do deserve a reward.”

You’re at the platform now, and you couldn’t say a word. She reaches up and you lean down, your mouths meet and the taste of her is sweet. Again, you get to see her again, she wanted to see you, she _waited_ for you. Just for you. She found out that you were coming somehow, and she arranged to surprise you, only because she wanted to.

“Oh, hey now,” and her voice is concerned, she pulls back and takes your shades off, rubs a finger underneath your ocular socket and you’re surprised to feel it slide on tears. What is happening to you? You do not want to see that look on her face - _except you do_ , you do, you want to see how much she pities you. You are so selfish. “This is meant to be a nice surprise!”

“Oh-h, it is, it truly, truly is, I am,” you stutter, and you wipe your eyes with one hand, the other hand she is already holding onto. Tight, and warm, her soft STRONG grip laced around your fingers. Usually, you do not miss people. You do not care. You do not care that no one seeks you out, that no one waits for you, you truly do not. You never have. You have no reason or excuse to be acting this way. But you can’t seem to stop. “S-sorry, I do not know what has come over me, disgraceful, I am s-sorry, Jane...”

Her hands pull you onto the platform next to her and she’s warm and close, pressing against you. You’re shaking, and you want your moirail, only you do not, you want Jane. Just the way she is. 

“Deep breaths, come on, deep breaths, Equius,” her voice croons in your ear and you follow the orders she is giving you. Breathe in, breathe out. The shaking stills and the tears stop, you press your hands to your face and feel so _embarrassed_. Why are you so weak around her? But then, what else is pity for? If you can not be weak around the ones who pity you, then when can you be weak. It is something that has taken you sweeps to understand, but it is still a little much to expect Jane to cope with. You have known each other for such a short time, you’re only so recently in flush. “There.” She kisses the back of your neck, curling her fingers through your hair and undoing the tie keeping it restrained. It’s like your pan-ache eases at that moment, and you let out a long shuddering sigh.

“Mmm, _Jane_.”

“You can keep saying my name like that all you like, hot shot.” You like the way she speaks to you, so warm and concerned, so interested in you. So focused. No one except Nepeta has ever said your name like they cared before her. Her fingers stroke your throat, and you shiver. “I brought you some cupcakes too! I checked to make sure there’s nothing in them that’ll give you trouble digesting, even if they’re mostly Terran ingredients.”

“I look forward to trying them,” you tell her, and you’re glad that you’ve regained some control over your voice. It doesn’t shake. That had been a deplorable moment, a very regrettable lack of self control and you’re resolved to put it behind you. Her fingers trace up and down your throat, and then slide back to the nape of your neck, sliding deeply into your freed hair. “Jane, I am filthy, I should not be sitting on these clean sheets.” And she should not be touching you while you are in this state, sweaty from travel and overwrought from the simple facts of her kindness. Her obvious pity.

“Then let’s do get you cleaned up.”

“J-Jane, that is...”

“C’mon.” She gets up from the bed next to you and moves to stand in front, takes your hands and pulls as though she could pull you to your feet. To appease her, you stand and she leads you through to the ablutions block. Thankfully it seems, you will be able to take care of yourself in private. Being low-ranked and having to mix in a public ablutions block with its open ablution-traps had been one of the worst things you have ever had to do in your life. You are so glad to have put those days behind you. “Alright, get undressed.”

It’s quite small for you although for a human you suppose it would be normal sized. Obediently, you pull your tanktop up over your head and she takes it from your hand. She’s seated herself on the closed lid of the loadgaper, watching you as you try to ensure that you don’t put your hand through the screen of the ablutiontrap by accident. You don’t get a chance to undo your belt; she pulls you towards her by it and you balance yourself by a hand on the wall above her head as you look down, watching as she undoes the buckle and then toys with the clasp holding your utility pants closed. You’re shivering again.

“So, what’s this scar?” she asks, and traces her hot finger along a thick jagged scar on your stomach, your muscles flinching at the light touch. You are not ticklish. Not at all.

“A Cavalreaper of the old Empress managed to get through our lines to the supply depot. I was caught by surprise.” You remember that day. You had been under one of the light starcraft on your back performing a repair, and the first thing you had known was brilliant agony bursting into life as he slashed a blade across your lower body. You’re probably lucky that he’d lost his lance on the way in, otherwise you would have been pinned to the dirt with it through your torso. That possibly wouldn’t have been survivable. “I made sure he was no longer a threat.” By punching his head off his shoulders; no need to mention that.

“And this?”

Another scar, around your bicep this time; she has to lean up to touch it. You blush blue along your cheeks, this one doesn’t have quite the same sort of story. “A black fling. He had. K-knives.” You’re embarrassed, but you don’t want to be less than truthful with her. Honesty has always served you better in the long run than deception; Aradia is perhaps your truest example. Perhaps if you had only been honest, to her, to yourself...no matter, it is in the past. And now, Jane seems to fully return your feelings, as hesitant and newhatched as they are. 

“Mm. Here?” 

This one curves along your lower back and dips below the waistband of your pants. You. Really don’t want to explain this particular scar. The story is even less dignified than the last one. “I. Uh. Darn. I miscalculated my programming on a robot, it exploded, and...well...” You shrug helplessly, and she snorts a little laugh before her clever fingers go to your pantclasp. Flicks it open with a sharp movement of her thumb, and the weight of the random parts in your pockets drag it down to your knees immediately, taking one of your socks with it. “Hff!”

“Hands on the wall, Equius,” she orders, and you put your other hand up as well. You’re bent over her, trapping her where she sits, your body an arch. But. You’re not feeling like she’s the one that’s trapped. That would be you. You’re trapped, you’re held in her words and the grazing touch of her hands. You hadn’t even thought that you would be able to respond, but here you are. So tired you’re only a sustained eyeclosure from sleep, and yet. And yet. “Hmm. Let’s see how pretty your nook is, mister Zahhak. I paid a lot of attention to your bulge last time; it’s only fair that the rest of you gets a look in.”

“Hn. Jane. I suppose I can’t object then, in the interests of fairness.” Her fingers trace between your legs, one hand still on the scar she had just pointed out. Heated fingers slide along the slit of your nook, teasing it into opening, slickening with fluid as your bulgesheath widens just a little as well. You close your eyes and pant for breath, feeling sweat trickle down your face and your back. “ _Oh_ , my.”

“You’re so lovely when you open up for me like this. You’re so open to everything I do to you, Equius. It’s a rare privilege.” You wouldn’t know how else to be, and you bite your lip as she strokes the sensitive skin of your nook. Your breath is ragged and unsteady as she so lightly touches you in your most vulnerable, fragile places, burning touch making you sweat and leak, drip. Your knees are shaking. “You really are so exquisite, in every part.”

The touch of her mouth on your nook makes you clench your fingers so hard you send them through the tile on the wall. It cracks under your hands with a sharp sound. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, Jane, I’m so sorry,” you start to apologize and then your brain shorts out as she licks you again. Her tongue is like a hot coal against your nook, and you can’t. You can’t even imagine what she must look like as she does it, you can’t quite see – no, you won’t look! You’re shaking all over and her hands are on your hips as her mouth, her _mouth_! “Jane!”

You trill like it’s drone season on Alternia and you’re bound to produce a pail in no short order or be culled. Your bulge is lashing against your stomach, heavy and dark as her fingers dig into your skin, her mouth, her tongue inside you, oh, licking at the soft places inside your nook. No troll would ever – you have never felt – oh, you can’t, you can’t, your fingers have dug holes into the wall. The sound of tile shattering is like something delicate and pretty while you chirrup, chirr, aroused mating calls that reverberate through your thorax and you’re so openly lewd but you can’t keep your voice under control. Not with what she’s doing to you. You’re far too on edge, you’ve been thinking about what she said to you since it happened and you rarely bother to allow yourself any self-release.

“Oh yes, this is a very pretty nook, mister Zahhak, look, it’s so _wet_ for me,” she croons and you feel her fingers slide inside. Like she had said she wanted to, when you’d spoken over Trollian. She had said. She had wanted you to imagine her fingers inside you, before she ordered you to use your bulge in your own nook like a pervert. Some adolescent failure. Oh darn.

It had felt so _good_.

“Jane, please, I, pail, a bucket _please!_ ” You’re so close, you can’t keep on like this. You had no idea you were on such a short trigger, you really should have more control. This is disgraceful. A troll of your blood colour should be able to keep a better, a closer rein on himself, but you. You just can’t. Not with her STRONG hands holding onto your hips while her mouth, you can’t think of another word for it, feasts on your nook. You’re so close, you’re trying to hold back, you can’t relax yourself with her face between your thighs, where it’s probably already streaked in your colour. The thought makes you let out another agonized trill. You can’t, not with her where she is, that is so disgraceful, so shameful, far too humiliating for her. It’s something that only the most black of kismesis would do to each other, and you _pity_ her, you’re so flushed for her that it suddenly hurts. “ _Jane_ , please, I beg you!”

“Shhh, I got you, it’s ok,” she soothes you, fingers replacing tongue as you shudder, unable to catch your breath. You hear something grate, and then the cool pressure of a bucket is between your thighs and you relax. Your head droops, and one of her hands goes to your face, running over your jaw and the soft edge of your mouth. She has the sensibility not to push her fingers inside your mouth, but her other hand is tangled with your bulge and you groan against her lips as she leans up, almost stands up, to kiss you. She tastes like. She tastes like your slurry, and now you know what that tastes like, that the thick salt-sour taste is your material on her mouth. “So good, come on, you can do it, it’s ok, Equius, good boy...”

You shudder all over and pull your head away from her kiss as her fingers stroke you in just the way you need to reach your peak. Your slurry drains into the bucket with a soft patter of heavy drops, and you pant raggedly while she continues to stroke your face, murmuring all those soft pitying things that you desire to continue even more than the way she touches you. “J-jane, you did not...do you wish...” you murmur, still shaking a little with pleasure as your bulge starts to slowly retreat within its sheath.

She is _licking_ her fingers clean and she has the wickedest smile on her face. You swallow, hard. “Don’t worry, you big palooka, this was all for you. I hated seeing my boy looking so wrung out; thought you could do with a little pick me up.” There’s slurry around her mouth, dark stain on her lovely skin. She looks _decadent_ , so lewd.

“I really, do not deserve...” you begin to demur, while wanting nothing more than a rinse in a refreshment closet and sleep. Sopor. You’ll have to do without it in its proper form for now, but you do have the patches. They’ll still the horrorterrors enough that you can sleep through your daymares. You’re not expecting to get a proper day of sleep until you return to the Absolutism, your recuperacoon and your moirail. Still, you do have Jane here...and that is a very welcome surprise. You had not expected to see one friendly face, let alone the face of the one you’re flushed for. It makes your pusher beat a little faster.

“I’m going to be the judge of what you do or do not deserve, ok? And don’t worry so much, Equius...you’re going to get the chance to serve me properly. Later, when you’re more rested and up to the task. I have some _plans_.” 

You flush bright-blue at her insinuations, but you’re _very_ interested to see in what ways you can serve her. The memory of the evening you met her is hovering in the back of your mind, and you hope that between you both, you can bring something of that to anything new. It had been so. Powerful. And. You don’t really know what to say, not even to yourself, except that it had felt so natural and so right, you don’t know how to go back to the way things were. You know that you don’t want to go back to those forced pity flings, brought on by a need to pay your dues to the drones and nothing more. 

“Alrighty, buster, you go shower! I’m going to get cosy on the bed while I’m waiting for you to get clean.”

“I do not know how good company I will be, I did not get a chance to rest properly on the shuttle,” you tell her as you handle the awkward and vaguely disgusting business of getting the filled pail out between your knees. She manages to put it by the side of the loadgaper and you shuffle back slightly to let her out so she can wash her hands and face in the little wash-frondbasin. You eye the finger-sized holes you’ve left in the wall of the ablutionsblock and wince slightly; you really need to be able to keep better control of your STRONGNESS. “Uh. And I’ll repair that. Later. Before I leave, at least.”

“Not really needed, but a nice thought, Equius.” She kisses your cheek, and you find that almost more stunning than the orgasm. Holding your hand to your face as if to protect the place her lips had pressed, you watch her go out of the room, and then settle to cleaning yourself up. It’s a little difficult to unlace your boots with your pants around your knees, but you manage. Again, the trap is too short for you but you only plan to be here for a cycle, two at the most. And then you will be back to your own ship with your blueblood sized quarters, with the accoutrements you’ve designed to be able to stand up to your STRONGNESS. You won’t ever be quite able to relax here, even when you’re alone. Everything’s so fragile.

Although now...you wonder if you can extend your stay a little longer. It would be nice, to get to know Jane in a face to face context, instead of over Trollian. You’re spoiled; there are trolls who go a sweep or more without seeing their quadrants. You have your moirail with you on your home ship, you’re together almost constantly, and here, now, you’ve managed to see Jane again and it hasn’t even been a quarter of a sweep since you met her. The memory of her heated mouth, her STRONG grip rises over you and you pause for a moment as you’re rinsing your hair, thinking about it. But no need to be lost in a memory, when the real thing is waiting for you in your respiteblock.

Drying your hair with a towel and with another one wrapped around your waist, you step out into the respiteblock where true to her word, Jane is lying on the concupiscent platform. Ah, bed, was the word she had used. Humans apparently used them for sleeping on, and not just for. Well. Although it seemed the platform wasn’t really needed for that either. You haven’t truthfully made it to a concupiscent platform yet in a way that made full use of it, but you suppose you’ve really only. Only really once. 

You’re not sure what to call the event that just happened in the ablutionblock. 

Even less what occurred in your workblock.

“Come and lie down.” She pats the comfortpad of the platform and you step forward slowly, ease yourself onto the bed as she sits up, pulls you further onto it next to her with a STRONG grip on your arm. You settle awkwardly, pulling a cuddlenub closer under the small of your back. You’re really not used to this, but you’re willing to try. This is very different to your usually only other contact with another living being; with Nepeta, everything is entirely pale and with Jane, everything is touched with flushes of red that you are very unsure of how to accept. And encourage. “Oh! Cupcakes, cupcakes, cupcakes, have one before you put your soporpatch on and I leave you for the morning. I want to see how you think they taste. New recipe.” 

“It looks lovely, Jane, thank you.” The item of baked good she presents you with is iced with a blue very close to your bloodcolour and in a frilled wrap of thin decorative paper. You have to handle it carefully so you don’t squash it, pulling down the wrapper with the tips of your claws and taking a tentative bite. The first thing that you really notice is _sugar_ , bursting across your tongue and tingling a little against your gums and tongue. Your eyes widen, and you wonder if you should finish it or not. You really. Don’t indulge very often. But if you’re going to sleep right after this, then, it won’t really hurt. You suppose. And the way Jane is looking at you, you would hate her to think you don’t like her offering. “I don’t know the taste, but they are...very good.”

You take another bite, trying to puzzle out the vagaries of taste and unfamiliar ingredients. Mostly, your senses are still shrieking about the _sugar_. This is an extravagance that you think few trolls would get to taste, and possibly restricted to those of purple and violet blood. Soft, creamy icing graces your tongue, your fangs going through the crumbling cake easily. A burst of flavour, tart-sweet, dark blue lumps through the pale golden body of the cupcake, you forget yourself for a moment and lick a smear of icing off your lip with a sweep of your long tongue.

“It’s a blueberry cupcake,” Jane explains, and you nod a little, approving of her good taste. You’re sure you would still like blue, even if you were not of that most noble colour by hatchright. Whatever a blueberry is, you like it. “With vanilla bean frosting, I just added some dye to get that lovely deep blue. I thought you’d like that!”

“I am most appreciative of the efforts you’ve gone to for me, Jane, I do not deserve such toil,” you hasten to assure her, and finish off the cupcake with one last careful bite. The sugar is a little dizzying rush in your tired body, and you lean up on one frond-hinge to throw the wrapper towards the rubbish receptacle in the corner. “It was delicious. Thank you.”

“I did have something I wanted to talk to you about. And not just the cupcakes.” You bring your gaze back to her, and you think she looks genuinely nervous about whatever it is that is going to be a topic of discussion. You frown; that is not. You do not like that look on her face. “Something that is maybe a little important! You’re probably gonna think I’m a silly old worrywart for being so concerned about it when I tell you!” She laughs, and it’s a little more jagged and desperate than the soft hooting chuckles you’d found so enamouring when you met her. What could be worrying her so? “You’ll probably think it’s a scream.”

Waiting for a moment for her to resume, you put your hand over hers where her fingers are nervously twisting over each other while she worries her lower lip with her teeth to make them be still. “Jane. It will be fine.” You try to make your voice reassuring, but you’re afraid you just sound foreboding and like you’re giving her an order that she can’t escape. “I feel...quite a lot of pity for you.” The heat on your cheeks lets you know you’re blushing, and you hope that it makes her feel more at ease. That she can talk to you freely; pale and flush are not the same, but they’re both based on pity at their core. “Tell me what you need to say.”

Her bottom lip looks stained with the bright red of human blood, and you cringe internally. Whatever this is, it’s quite upsetting for her. Is it just your reaction that she is worried about, or something else? If it’s anyway related to the human whose computer you destroyed, you are going to be _upset_.

“I should just bite the bullet, huh?” She sits up straighter and turns her hands around so her fingers wrap around yours, her soft skin so heated against your cool. You’re starting to get quite concerned. Maybe she isn’t...quite as in pity as she thought she was and that’s what she needs to tell you. That perhaps she is reconsidering the pail exemption documents, or something similar to that. You hope not. You truly hope not. “Alright, so. I guess I should just come clean. Not that it’s a bad thing, I hope not at least, but I suppose it might be a little bit of a surprise!” Again, that jagged laugh, and you are _very_ concerned now. If she was a troll, you would be suggesting that you call her moirail and get some shooshing done. “I’m sure you’re aware I’m an officer of the human forces.”

“Of course,” you soothe, and this feels alien to you. You’re really not used to being the one who is reassuring and calming; Nepeta is the one who brings you stability most of the time. Still, you will do your best. “That was obvious by where I met you, and, ah, the size of your quarters.”

“Well! You probably didn’t realise just how high ranked I am.” She laughs, and you almost flinch this time. You wish she would just say whatever it is you have to say, so you can both have it done. You really don’t want to listen to her laugh like that again, it doesn’t sound like her at all. “I’m. Well. Just spit it out, Crocker, and stop pussyfooting around the subject. I’m the fleet admiral and pretty much the big cheese for the human government in most meaningful ways.”

You blink. 

That is.

Well.

“And pretty high up in other ways too, but I’m not sure if they make sense to a troll. Feferi calls me the Cake Empress, and that’s more than a little true, I guess, but golly gee, Equius, can you say something already? This is really. I really didn’t mean to hide anything and I was going to tell you eventually. Didn’t know how to bring it up! I do pity you truly and it’s nothing to do with our relative ranks, please don’t look at me like that. Oh, I knew you would take it badly and I really didn’t, I didn’t want to tell you yet, I wanted to wait...until I was sure, sure that you wouldn’t take it all wrong...”

Her voice is almost despairing as she rambles on while you sit still and silent so you can try to process what she has said and what it means (she calls the Empress by her hatchname, like a quadrantmate might), and then she tries to get up from the bed as if to flee. You don’t let go of her hands, but you’re excruciatingly careful not to tighten your grip. You would hate to hurt her, it is the last thing you would ever want to do. The pangs of pity you feel for her are almost overwhelming; she acts so sure and certain and now, when her feelings are brought into question, when she thinks your pity might be unsure, she is a nervous wreck. It’s really. Sweet. And very romantic, she looks very pitiful right now.

“Jane.” You rub your thumb over her hands and she won’t look at you, you try to duck your head a little so you can see her eyes. Is she crying? You desperately hope this won’t turn into something pale but there’s nothing to say you can’t discuss your relationship with a quadrantmate, no matter if it is pale or not. “I will not pretend that this is not a shock. That I am not...surprised at your rank.” You hesitate, and you wonder how to say what is on your mind. She’s staring at your hands where you’ve captured hers, and you want to say things in just the right way. And you are concerned, intimidated, she is much, much higher than you. And at the same time...something inside you shivers with something that is not fear and is more akin to satisfaction. No wonder she had been so comfortable with giving you orders. You STRONGLY wish for her to continue to do so. “But. I knew you were...high ranking, even if I did not know how exalted. I may gain further rank, or I may not. It is not certain for me any more, despite my blue blood, and I will never reach a position as lofty as yours. But Jane, _I truly pity you_.” You cough and force yourself to continue on despite the ache in your squawkblister. What if she does not? “It’s presumptuous of one such as me to say something like that to a noble like you, but still...”

“Equius. Don’t say things like that about yourself, ok?”

You pause in your own rambling, and look at her through a veil of your own hair. This does not really feel like the time or place for a conversation like this, she’s naked, you’re nearly so, seated on a concupiscent platform. This truly feels like a conversation that should have taken place while both parties had clothes on. Still, you make do with what you’re given and it seems like the time for this conversation is now and the place is here. You will endevour to cope with the situation you have at hoof. 

“So, you’re really...ok with this?” Her voice is cautious, careful, and you wonder what sort of response she had expected. Did she expect you to rush out? Run? You suppose she couldn’t be blamed for assuming you would react badly, but you would have hoped she might have. Not? Might have trusted you, just a little.

“I think so, I won’t pretend I am not surprised...but I. Um. I have one question, Jane.”

“Well, shoot!”

Her relief is an almost visible thing, sitting between you.

“Could you. No, it’s really...” You choke a little at your private thoughts, and you start to curl a lock of your damp hair around a finger almost desperately. Now she’s the one trying to look you in the eyes and you’re the one avoiding hers. “No, it’s fine.”

“Spit it out, bucko, c’mon, don’t make me start the first stage of legislacerator interrogation!”

“Sometime, could you wear your formal uniform?” you say as she seems about to climb into your lap as she pursues her answer, you must be blue from your cheeks to your hairline, you’re sure of it. It must be the sugar talking, you wouldn’t say something like this normally. You wouldn’t even infer. You’re sweating heavily, ruining the cleansing effect of the shower while she raises an eyebrow at you. “Um. When we...when we...” You stutter, and the smile she gifts you with is one of the wickedest you’ve seen yet. 

“You want me to wear my formal fleet uniform while we _pail_? Is that what you’re trying to say to the highest ranking officer of the human forces, Enginihilator Zahhak of the Alternian Empire?”

“Hrrk. I. Um. That is. I suppose.”

Yes, yes, oh golly, you do, you want her to wear it and order you about, to tell you to do anything at all but you hope mostly to order you to please her, and you are a _deviant_. The way she’s saying your name doesn’t sound like a no. It sounds like an oh _yes_. Like a pleased and almost playful _oh_ , and your whole face must be so blue. Despite your recent release or maybe because of it, you feel your nook clench, just a little as she looks at you with an assessing gaze, evaluating your truthfulness and the stammered words that are all you’ve been able to offer her.

“Maybe if you’re _a good boy_ for me, I will,” she says and you relax at the gleeful tone of her voice as she starts to speak, and yet the sudden appearance of a husky croon has you almost squirming where you sit. Just what could you do to prove how worthy you are to have such a thing? You don’t know, and you want to know so badly. Hopefully, she will let you know what she desires of you in terms of behaviour, and then perhaps...

“I will try my absolute best, Jane.”


	13. Chapter 13

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering arsenicCatnip [AC]

GG: Thanks to your timely warning, the potential crisis has been averted.  
GG: Equius is quite alright and took everything much better than I could have hoped for.  
AC :33 < good!  
AC :33 < hmmmm so you owe me fur the tip-off i think!  
GG: I suppose I do.  
GG: And a Crocker always pays her debts!  
GG: So, what do you want from me, Nepeta?  
AC :33 < ill think of something  
AC :33 < it wont be a big furvour  
AC :33 < i want equihiss to be happy too he is my meowrail after all  
GG: Going to sit on it, huh?  
AC :33 < like a bucktoothcritter hoarding hardshellplantbuds for winter  
GG: Hoo hoo!  
GG: I am very much looking forward to meeting you in the flesh, miss Leijon.  
GG: You’re quite the character.  
AC :33 < :33  
AC :33 < depends how long you k33p equihiss on your ship after he fixes tavros’ legs  
AC :33 < i dont like leaving him alone fur too long  
GG: You know, the idea of tying Equius to my bed indefinitely has some merit to it.  
GG: That would stop him leaving before I was ready.  
GG: And I think he would look good there.  
AC :33 < 333333www. :PP  
AC :33 < thats my meowrail youre talking about  
AC :33 < also he’s pawfully strong so if you managed that, id have to come so i could s33 the meowricle  
AC :33 < although maybe not if youve tied him to your concupiscent platform  
AC :33 < that would be weird  
GG: If I can find a solution to my current problem of harnessing Equius’ strength, I’ll let you know!  
GG: It’s becoming quite a head scratcher, no one I’ve asked seems to be able to figure it out.  
AC :33 < you could ask equihiss, hes furry clever at making things  
GG: I want it to be a surprise. A quadrant present, capiche?  
GG: I would hate to ask him to make his own gift, that seems impolite.  
AC :33 < mmm thats fur i s33 your pawnt!  
AC :33 < but you nefur know, he might like the idea  
AC :33 < anyway!  
AC :33 < im gonna be late for my workshift if i dont get meowving  
AC :33 < good evening, jane  
GG: Evening, Nepeta. Have a good shift!  
GG: :B

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering arsenicCatnip [AC]


	14. Chapter 14

What has Nitram done to your glorious robotics.

You frown down at the exposed wiring which seems all out of pace, as the brownblood sits on one of your work tables, supported by plushnubs and wrapped in warmth planes. You have no desire to see him without clothing, and you need to keep the room somewhat cool for your own comfort. Since his prostheses start roughly around his hips and down to the top of his thighs, you require him to be bare from at least his grubscars down for you to be able to work on everything. Hence, warmth planes. He’s more or less naked in front of you, and you really don’t want to think about it. You neither hate him nor pity him; you tolerate him at best.

You’re not usually easily pushed to swearing, but _what the hell has he done_ to your workings?

Oh. No. He has not been the one who’s done it. He couldn’t reach, couldn’t twist this much, his body may be muscled but it is not limber. Especially this one at the back of the knee, that was definitely out of reach. And you’re sure that the beefbeast-horned lowblood couldn’t have figured out the opening mechanism anyway; mechanics are far from his forte. Especially considering the level of complexity involved in manufacturing robotic prostheses like these.

“You let someone else inside the casing,” you almost hiss between your fangs and perhaps the Empress wishes to bring about some equality between top and bottom of the hemospectrum, and he may have more rank than you, but Nitram still flinches back at the low thrum of highblood rage in your voice. Someone has been meddling with your work, and they _have ruined it_. No wonder Nitram had messaged you as he did; you’d seen the broken way he’d walked into the block, the way his joints had seized at each graduation of movement.

They had to hurt. They had to pain him with every step he took.

 _Good_.

He deserved it. You may be somewhat reserved and you are aware of your not undeserved reputation of easily provoked ill temper, but if sometroll, anytroll with some of your work in them, especially when you have done the work personally the way you have with his, had let you know that it was malfunctioning, you could have. You would have. You’re not sure. You would have found a way to fix what was wrong; you just hate with every ounce of platonic hatred in your pusher when unwieldy hands meddle with your work. Perhaps you could have directed repairs over transible, or sent schematics through. Something, anything, so you weren’t looking at what you’re looking at now. You hope you have enough parts with you to fully replace the prosthetics, from case to wiring to programming, every gear and cog. You were planning to implant the neurogrubs, undergo a little light tinkering but you weren’t quite expecting this sort of. Inefficient disaster.

“This is terrible. What. I. Hrrrk.” You pull a towel from under the workbench and press it to your face, and then the back of your neck. You’re grinding your teeth, and you have to make a conscious effort to stop. Maybe you should message your moirail? No. No, you can handle this. It’s only that someone has gone into your exquisitely detailed work and...you don’t even _know_ what to call what they’ve done. “This is going to take much longer than I had projected.”

You bring your information slate over and start drawing, glancing from the tangle of wires, comparing the additions and alterations to your original work. With the towel draped over your neck, you delve deeper into the confusion of circuits. Occasionally, you blot your brow with a corner, focused on the depths of the inside of Nitram’s prosthetic leg, to stop sweat from dripping inside. That is the last thing that this poor abused piece of equipment needs to add to its woes.

“Do they have a fourwheel device on the ship?” you ask him, because you think you’re going to have a better chance of fixing these if you remove them entirely. Well, from the sockets, at least. The cradle around his lower body seems... _seems_...to have not been tinkered with, which you’re sickeningly glad over, considering the way it is linked into his cartilaginous support column. You remember when you had attached it the first time, the way brown blood had coated your hands in sticky rivulets, the rattling roar of Kanaya’s ripsaw engine and the terrible weak sounds Nitram had made as he was dismembered and then you had replaced his missing parts with new mechanical bits. It had been a much easier effort during his second pupation. There had been proper parts to hand, and you had had the experience of the first time to guide you.

It had been desperation that had pushed your hatefriends to make the effort you had, and you had warned them repeatedly that it was likely he would still die. After the prostheses you had made for Serket, the leaders of your group had decided it was worth the risk. Either way he had been slated for demise, he died under a drone’s culling fork or he died on the operating table under your hands. But there was a chance that you could avert the first death, that maybe he would live. It had been considered, and decided that the possibly pay off was worth the risk. It must have been, because here Nitram sits, alive and of a much higher rank than he had ever had the right to claim, completely inappropriate and outrageous, and...you’re sweating. 

You stop thinking about the past with a resolute determination and turn your attention back to the task at hand.

“Uh, I can find out,” he replies and you nod, pushing microtools deeper into the hollow of biowire and circuitry that power the lowblood’s knees. No, you are going to have to remove them and rebuild them almost entirely. You don’t – what even is this? Distressed to every fibre of your being, you prod an _orange_ wire. That is not. That is not something that you installed, it is not one of your blue coded insertions or a tyrian biowire.

You want to break something so badly.

“Good. Do so immediately, I want to know if I can proceed with removing your limbs to be worked on. Thankfully, the cradle seems to be untouched and intact...” If the nameless tinkerer had touched that, you’re not sure what you would have done. Broken something. Found them, and snapped them over your gosh darn knee. You hope that, wherever Aradia is, that her robotics are in better shape and being looked after by someone who understood what a work of art you had lovingly crafted to be fixed to her to allow her to live as much like a normal troll as possible. You really. You really, truly hope so. 

Muttering to yourself, you close the casing back up and secure it. Put your hands on the table and take a deep breath, working to calm yourself without the benefit of a moirail. You can do this. You can fix this. At least for once, this is a project that you fully understand and no one will interfere with. This is all yours.

“The improvements I want to make...” you start, and look over at the biogrub nursery. You had fed them and checked on their progress, they’re quite fat and happy for grubs. Little twining bodies of squishy programming, ready to be inserted and attached to live nerves. “I have some. Ideas.” It will help you with the Helmsman project, you’re sure of it, you’ll show Captor that the central cartilaginous support system and its accompanying neuronodes are nowhere near able to support the output needed for a psionic pouring their energy into a star ship. Nitram is a good subject for you, because of his blood colour. Although, he’s not quite as psionic as you might have liked...in this situation, you will take what you can get. “I brought some neurogrubs of my own breeding; they should increase your neural attachment to your prostheses dramatically. You should be able to feel pressure against your robotics. Uh. Perhaps more.”

His eyes widen, and you try not to look at him as you put your tools back into your equipment harness. That sort of look seemed like it should be reserved for a moirail, or a matesprit. It really shouldn’t be aimed at you; you don’t feel any pity for him at all. “Really? You think you can do that? That would be...” his voice fades out in a sort of wonder, and you may be doing this to prove your own point but you still hope that it will improve his life all the same. You want to improve, you want to be better. You want what you can make to _be_ better, and with things like this, you can really see how your work, your efforts, have gone perhaps one step closer to unobtainable perfection.

“I need to make some changes to my plans, consider what changes would be most beneficial and how to fix the ludicrous tangle inside your casings,” you tell him, and you snap a microtool into your belt with careful fingers. “Find out about the four-wheel device. I want to get started on this properly tomorrow night.”

“So, are you going to try and fit your schedule to the humans at all or not?” the brownblood says hesitantly, and you give him a _look_ over the top of your shades. What does he mean by that? “I, I, I mean, I consider myself to be on their schedule now! And uh. It might. Be easier? Just think of it as night, I guess, uh, that’s what I did. You know how it is when you change to a new ship and you have to...make the effort to...fit in with their...schedule...uhh. It should be like that, because you know, you should make an effort to meld with the majority overall.”

“I see no reason to change my vernacular, whether it is morning or evening for the humans. Primary work shift, whatever they may call it, is still the primary work shift.” You run your fingers over the joins of the casing, and shake your head. It even feels rough on the edges. Just what has this nameless person done to your careful work? You are going to find them, and do _something_ to show them what a mistake it was to meddle with another’s work in such a slipshod fashion. “What time is it now, shipside?”

“Uh. Sometime around lunch...I think. Noon? Middle of main shift.”

The word makes you twitch, just a little. Even just thinking about it...about being caught out in midday sun with nothing to shield, the undead moaning their way towards an unprotected member of the living. Well. It’s ancestral, and unavoidable. You have no idea how the lowblood has managed to become so comfortable using the Earthian terms and their references to the deadly day orb. 

“I see.” You consider the time, what you need to do and the needs of your body. You do not have your moirail. You will need to be careful; at least this may be somewhat difficult but it is not the same impossibility as the Helmsman project. You are not as likely to be pulled into a vortex of absorbed inventive focus, but it is still a possibility. “Come back at the start of the next primary work shift, _in the morning_ , if I must fit in with human vernacular and I’ll remove your prostheses so I can work on them more intensively. I will leave procuring a four-wheel device to you; if not, other arrangements.” You don’t really care how Nitram manages to care for himself. All you need is your robotics without the troll they’re meant for attached to them. You are absolutely planning to put them back as soon as you’ve fixed them, despite his terrible choices in getting another to repair them. It must have been a human; they just did not understand the complex subtleties of troll workmanship. “I think it will take...three. Neigh, four, nights at least. Perhaps more. Then I will reattach them.”

“If you think that’s what it’s going to take, Equius, then I suppose that that is what it’s going to take. I’m, uh, not going to pretend that I’m pleased about having to go back into a four-wheel device...” Nitram is mumbling, and you ignore him; his consignment to an unwieldy device like what he will be forced into is his own fault. He is the one who let someone else make alterations to your technology. You really don’t think you’re that unapproachable. Or, he could have sent a message to your moirail. You’re certain that Nepeta keeps in far closer contact than you do, and she’s always been better with other trolls, even those outside of what you would deem an acceptable bloodcaste. 

You are merely postulating, that if his prostheses had needed repairs or alterations, is that he should have been able to contact you. He certainly did when it became obvious that his erstwhile tinkerer had _ruined_ your work. 

Wiping your hands clean of grease and a few smears of brown blood on a clean towel, you stare at him for a moment. “You can redress, and then go,” you say in a terse tone, and turn your back so he can put his clothes back on and then leave you. “Is there a place where I can go to exercise?” What you want to do is _fight_ but it’s not as though you brought one of your sparring robots with you. You hadn’t expected to have generated this much rage over a simple inspection – how could you have? You’d thought perhaps something had worn, some servo gone awry, a gyro unbalancing in the wrong direction. Something generated by wear, perhaps some fall, some accident. You found deliberate sabotage instead, and it is _quite upsetting_ to you on a number of levels. Offensive, may even be the better word.

“I can answer that question,” comes Jane’s voice from the door as it opens, and your fingers rip the towel to shreds as you jerk in surprise, grip tightening past what the fabric could bear. _Fiddlesticks_. “And the answer is you’re darn tootin’ we got somewhere like that on my ship. You think I get these guns by thinking them up?” You glance at her and she is leaning on the door in a crisp white uniform, hip cocked and one arm curled to display her STRONGNESS of muscle. The hopbeast-toothed grin she’s throwing to you makes your pusher race a little, and you remember what she’d done with her mouth and her tongue to you in your ablutionblock.

You swallow, and try not to be too obvious about it.

“Ah, no, I would imagine such _strongness_ takes some effort to maintain, miss Crocker.” She really is very attractive and you’re trying to ignore the fact that you are starting to blush. It is really the impropriety of the situation. Nitram is still, well, you truly hope he has finished replacing his attire, and you’re not overly familiar with the phenomenon but you believe Jane is flirting with you. You try to drop the ruined towel discreetly into a circular rubbish receptacle and nudge it further under the bench with your foot.

“If you’re finished with the Ambassador, I’ve come to take you for lunch! How are things looking, anyway?”

“There is a lot of work to do; I will have to remove the main parts of Nitram’s prostheses so I can carry out my repairs.” You glance back at the lowblood in question, and are glad to see that he has put on his lower decency-coverings and is currently engaged in carefully pulling his shirt on over the top of his horns. The mess you uncovered is truly boggling to you; how could someone mess things up that badly? And when you add in the neurogrubs, you’re going to have to be truly firm with Nitram regarding only allowing trolls to do the work. Or at least patching you in over transible; that would be acceptable, you suppose. Maybe you should leave a breeding stock of the grubs here...no. No, that wouldn’t do. You would hate for them to develop unfavourable mutations while they were out of your control. That could end...very badly. “It will take longer than I thought.”

“Do you need any particular assistance, Tavros?” Jane asks the other troll, speaking past you as you grab another towel and wipe down your face. You’re somehow even more aware of your sweating when you’re in a room with Jane and another. You’ve almost come to not care about it when you’re alone with Jane, much the same as with Nepeta, but apparently having someone else in the room makes you so much more aware of it. You’re aware of the crawling sensation, you realise how disgusting you are so much more, how abhorrent to the average person. Which in turn, only makes you sweat more as your anxiety about the sweating increases. It’s an unfortunate cycle. “You know I’m happy to see to it.”

“Uh, a four wheel device? It’s like...uh, a vehicle that I can use to transport myself while Equius is working on my legs, while they are separated from my body, as he says is required.”

“A wheelchair? Is that what you mean?”

You and Tavros both share a look of mutual incomprehension, and he shrugs. Some of the terms the humans use are strangely reminiscent of highblood or seadweller terminology; you’ve made a study yourself so that you can communicate with your superior officers on a more even playing field, but even then you’re sometimes tripped up over a word or two. “I suppose, if that’s what you call them in Earthian. It’s a device I sit in and takes over the role of my walking fronds by being equipped with wheels, which then supply the propulsive element that allows me to go to different places.”

“Definitely sounds like a wheelchair! Well, I’m sure we’ve got one or two on ship, I can line one up for you and have it delivered to your quarters,” Jane says cheerfully, and both you and Tavros share another look. The human hadn’t acted like it was a strange request at all, or one that was a big favour. Trolls who couldn’t walk, were usually just culled. If Nitram hadn’t been one of the Empress’ supporters and well-liked by most of your clade, he would have been culled long before Ascension. Your provision of the prostheses so he could stand up before the drones when they arrived for pail collection had probably helped him live past it. “Why are you looking at each other like that?”

“Just thinking how different Alternia is from Earth,” Tavros says in answer to her question and then swings his legs over the side of the bench and stands up. “I’ll, uh, let you two get lunch, I guess...?” 

You choose not to meet his eyes and look elsewhere, you are not responding to the obvious tone of enquiry in his voice. This is _private_ , and you’re not really ready to be completely open with it. Not that you suppose you can really keep it to yourself when the _commander of the human forces_ has come to fetch you for a shared meal, you, a lowly enginihilator captain. There honestly is no reason that she should know who you are, let alone be willing to eat a private meal with you.

“Indeed, quite different,” you murmur and then flush brilliantly blue across your entire face as she comes further into the room and grabs your hand in hers. Her hand is soft and hot, her fingers clenching around yours so the only way you could pull away is if you hurt her. You never want to hurt her. “ _Jane_.” You meant for your tone to be forbidding but it’s simply kind of strangled. 

Why are both of your pity quadrants filled with females who are shorter than you and absolutely uncaring of your dignity as a blueblood.

“I’m going to just abscond with this guy right here, you can see yourself out alright, can’t you, Tavros? Lock up securely so no one comes in to mess around? Thanks!”

And with that, she pulls you right out of the room as the bronzeblood stammers something in shock. If you resist, pull back too hard, you could probably pull her arm right out of the socket. Snap her bones. It leaves you strangely powerless in the face of her assertiveness, and you _can’t_ stop sweating. You can feel your hair getting damp and the back of your neck getting slick.

“Jane, my _work_ ,” you protest, but you must admit you are not completely unhappy about the situation. The jangle of your toolbelt keeps time with your step as she pulls you along in her wake, her pace much faster than you would have expected. You’re not struggling to keep up, but somehow she’s making you stretch just a little. The change from your workroom’s dimmed lights to the brighter ones of the ship makes your oculars ache, but it is fine, Jane’s hand in yours keeps you on course. 

“Oh, blast your work; and my work too,” she says, and somehow steps up the pace so now you _are_ stretching to keep up with her as she runs down the corridors of the ship, past amused looking soldiers and surprised ones as well. The corridors seem to be busy, quite full of people, but she leads you quickly past any of those who pause in your almost headlong flight. How does someone with legs that short, move so fast? “I get to do so few things for fun anymore. I think I can take some time out to have lunch with my matesprit.”

You almost stumble when she comes right out and says it like that, for anyone who is nearby to hear. Catching yourself on the next step while your pusher continues to skip a beat dizzily, you pick up your feet properly and let her continue to guide you through lights that are too bright and corridors that curve in ways that you don’t know how to gauge. You feel like you could close your eyes, and she would lead you truly, keep you safe. It is. You are not.

“Jane, this is quite undignified,” you manage to protest, and she laughs. That soft hooting chuckle that you’re much relieved to hear again, and that makes your pusher flutter. Pulling you to the right into a side corridor, you both stumble to a halt and she pushes you up against a wall. You let her, too blinded in the light to protest and not wanting to leave one bruise on her skin. She presses her head against your chest and you catch your breath, wondering what it sounds like to her, if the rhythm of your pusher is different to a human’s. You imagine that it would have to be.

“Pish tosh, just a little fun, that’s all.” She winds her fingers through yours, the two pairs of both your hands entwined with each other now at your sides as you wait for your breathing to return to something similar to normal. You’re not much of a sprinter; you work much better over long distances. Endurance, that was much more in your line. “Well, we can eat in my rooms or go to the main dining hall.”

“I usually prefer privacy,” you venture to say, and you’re still unsure of how her clade, her _empire_ is going to view her relationship with you. The last thing you would want to do is bring her trouble, but you can’t bow out of this, take a step to the side and just leave. You don’t think you can stop. You don’t think you could step away, even if that is probably the most logical, most rational thing to do. If you wanted to do that, you should have shaken her hand off at the party and left, and you should never have allowed her to kiss you. That was the moment where you were completely, utterly lost, even if you had perhaps had little pitying thoughts throughout your conversation as you danced.

When she kissed you, taken complete control of the situation and of you at the same time, you had fallen so deep and hard into pity that you don’t think you can ever climb your way out.

“My rooms it is, I suppose.” She kisses you, leaning up on her tiptoes as you lean down, your lips meeting with a highly satisfying sensation before she pulls away. Pulls you along with the grip of her hand STRONGLY on yours, your fingers intertwined, charcoal gray with deep warm brown. “But you know I’m not ashamed of being in a relationship with you, right? It’s not going to be a problem if we have lunch together out in the sight of my crew.”

“I, um.” You find yourself twining a lock of your hair around and around the fingers of your free hand and you shrug a little, helplessly. The last thing you want to do is cause trouble for her, and you will be the second troll she has taken in a concupiscent quadrant. If she was a troll taking two humans... And the Highblood, well, that’s an excellent diplomatic tie. But you? You’re nothing. It’s funny how you used to think you, your blood, would be so important when you left the planet to take up your place in the Alternian Empire – it has not been like that at all, and not all of it is due to the Benefice’s reforms. “No. No, I don’t think that, Jane.”

“Good, because if you did, we would be having a very stern discussion, mister!”

You blush at the tone of her voice and the way her fingers fiercely tighten around yours; this feels like. You think it feels like what a little pitycrush in your adolescent years _should_ have been like. Sweet and flushed. “I would not say I am entirely adverse to the idea of a stern discussion. At some point,” you murmur, leaning down a little to speak softly into her curved ear. You catch a whiff of her scent at the same time, and all you want to do is press your nose there, right behind her ear, in the curve of her hairline and inhale. Just stay there, right there, but you refrain. Just for now, since you’re both walking almost side by side but you are hopeful that you will have the chance to do so, later.

“Oh, is your thinking that in this discussion, I should be wearing my uniform? I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page here.”

When she says things like that in _that_ tone of voice, you can feel the sweat bead, trickle down the back of your neck and the sides of your face. You swallow. Your hand is back in your hair and you start guiltily, putting it behind your back to try and stop yourself from fidgeting. It’s such an adolescent behaviour. “If you believe that my behoofiour has merited such, then...perhaps?” Your hopeful tone is more telling than you would like, and you bite your lip as she chuckles. It makes you want to smile, and you do; a little.

When it comes to pailing, you aren’t used to this long, slow flirtation before and after. Before it has been driven by needs must, reproductive duties must be met and pails surrendered to be given to the drones. There have been some loosenings around that driving need thanks to the Benefice’s reforms, but no one is quite willing to risk culling for being unable to turn in a pail. It is such a stupid reason to be culled. Your emotional needs have always been more than satisfactorily met by your moirail, but this, this whatever it is with Jane, it is. So very comforting. So flushed, sweet and red and hot. 

“We’ll see, but I think you’re doing just fine so far.”

Lunch is good, really good. You were expecting some sort of Alternian fare, grubloaf, or something similar. But there’s no meat of any kind, and the vegetables are unfamiliar but you deeply enjoy the taste of them. They taste clean and fresh, and most of the time on your own ship, you subsist on tuberpaste and nutloaf. You shouldn’t have to, but it can be hard to procure food that isn’t made out of grubs or some sort of meat. You just. You really hate the taste, the texture, everything about it and always have.

“I must ask, how did you know that I...don’t eat meat?” you ask Jane curiously, toying with a leaf of something green and curved as she smiles at you across the table. Your conversation has been light, touching a little on why you are here although you steered away from mentioning the neurogrubs. It’s not that you think she will ban you from using them, or you would hope she would not. Humans don’t like grubtech, you have seen the response yourself. You are merely not mentioning something that isn’t really anything to do with humans, and that would certainly disquiet her if she did know, so. Not mentioning. It’s not quite the same as lying.

“Oh, well, that would be thanks to some communications from your ship! They were quite explicit about your dietary preferences,” Jane says with a laugh, and you can’t help frowning a little. You can’t really think of anyone who would have...hmm. Not anyone in charge of anything, at least, or anyone in your lab group. Who could have possibly...? You feel as though you have spotted the delicate paw of your moirail at work and you’re not sure how you feel about that. On the one hand, it’s quite romantic that she has manoeuvred things so that she is continuing to take care of you even from a distance and on the other, well, you are a grown troll and you are well able to make your food choices known when required. “We have a variety of staff on ship who are vegetarians for different reasons, although I’m not one hundred per cent no meat myself, but um. You know how humans feel about grub products.” She props her head up on one hand and mutters, almost entirely under her breath but your superior troll auricular clots still catch it. “At least our meat is vat grown instead of being made out of _babies_...”

You decide not to address the grub issue, although it’s not the fact that inferior and unsatisfactory grubs from the brooding caverns become food eventually for the teeming masses of trolls both on the homeworld and beyond that bothers you. You just. Don’t enjoy meat. The texture feels entirely off-putting between your fangs. Squishy in a way that is entirely wrong. You move on instead, to complimenting her food, so you do not continue to think of distressing things. “This was truly delicious, Jane, thank you. I do not often get the chance to eat like this.” And it’s true. Fresh vegetables, where had she even gotten them from? Sometimes in the middle of the day when you’re not quite asleep in your sopor, you dream about things that Aurthour had made you back on Alternia from freshly grown vegetables, from things that actually tasted of something.

“Oh! Our refresher plants. You see, we have these giant greenhouses on shipside we use to help replenish our oxygen – and huge algae vats, but the vegetables are a good source of nutrition for the whole ship, and it’s easier to get people to eat healthy if it actually tastes good.” Jane seems proud as she explains how her ship works, and you find the whole thing very interesting. You wonder if the Empress knows about how the humans maintain their air quality; you suppose considering how little vegetative matter any normal troll would prefer to consume, having fresh plants onboard has never been an Imperial imperative. Currently, you believe that oxygen is purified and separated out on a series of planets given over to the practice, and then shipped out to be used in ships across the Empire. Plants might be easier; you believe you will make a suggestion. The only real problem may be finding room, as troll ships are usually filled from top to bottom with trolls, or with weaponry. Retroactive refit might be a little problematic, but perhaps a few battle cruisers could be outfitted with them to start. And you are sure there are trolls who miss living vegetation and plants; your moirail would be one of them, you are pretty certain of it. There would assuredly be others.

“Sounds simpler than what we do, and I must assume it does the job well enough. Do you need to supplement with extracted planetary oxygen at all, or is the vegetation sufficient?” Both of you sidetracked satisfactorily, your conversation descends into how the life support systems in your varied starships work, although it is not in either of your areas of expertise, you have a broad understanding. You’re both still talking about it as you assist with cleaning up from lunch, and then she walks with you to the designated exercise area. 

The human machines are not...entirely dissimilar to ones used by trolls, but when you break the weight machine by pulling on the arm too hard, Jane kind of snorts and then bars you from using them. You’re embarrassed, you haven’t broken something by accident so publically in quite a while. Your cheeks burn blue as you follow her around to the free weights, feeling the curious gazes of the other crew members in the exerciseblock boring into your back. Like you could almost feel them burning into you. With her soft spoken assistance, you manage to get a weight on the shaft that is actually challenging, and you smile a little as you lift the heavy mass, far beyond what any human could lift to her admiring gaze. It would be beyond almost any troll as well; you honestly can’t think of another who could hold as much. 

“Wow, you can really stack some weight on there,” Jane remarks, leaning back on an unoccupied piece of equipment and you smile a little, not adverse to demonstrating your STRONGNESS for your flushcrush. You imagine it is impressive for her to view, humans are just not that physically strong as a species. What they are, is inventive, practical and very cunning. You never fought on the human-troll front, but you have seen newsvid reports. They were quite adept at finding out weak spots and pinpointing them with lethal accuracy. Between the hivegrown rebellion spreading through Her ranks and the suddenly much more difficult and bitter than anticipated war of attrition with the humans, Her Imperial Condescension hadn’t had much of a chance. Still, if Feferi hadn’t gotten in that last lucky trident thrust...the rebellion still would have failed in that very moment. Only one of fuchsia blood can rule.

“I am very _strong_ , more so than most trolls.” You enjoy the curl and ache in your forearms and shoulders as you bring the weighted exercise-stick up to your chest and then let it drop again. And again. When you’ve done that often enough repetitively, Jane offers to show you a few of the exercises she uses. Some of them...don’t quite work, your musculature is different in certain points that make a few of the human movements impossible or dangerous, and the same when you show her yours. But it is quite the enjoyable little interlude; almost soft, quiet and just. It’s nice. It’s nice that you have something else to share, something that you can do together. It makes you hopeful, that this may be the foundations to a true, proper matespritship and that you’re not just blinded by hope and...well, honestly, a fair amount of pailing pheromones. 

Eventually, the fact that the two of you have become the new source of non-prerecorded entertainment on the ship gets to you, and Jane notices your growing discomfort with the amount of humans who just ‘happen’ to need to exercise right now. But only in places where you and Jane are in line of sight, it is amazing. Truly amazing. How that is where they all need to complete their routines of physical exertion, and right at this particular time. Your sweat is not all entirely due to the work out you have put yourself too and you duck your head down as Jane pulls at your arm, wiping a towel over your face and down the sides of your neck.

“Yes, Jane?”

“Come on, let’s get out of here. There’s an awful lot of nosey parkers out today,” she says with a disapproving frown at the watching faces, who suddenly find somewhere else to look. But they don’t leave or retreat; odd. In a troll ship, anyone subordinate to her would have backed off immediately to allow the higher ranking troll their territory, and lower the risk of being culled for insubordination. Not that on the spot culling is the norm anymore; the Benefice demands that every culling is covered by paperwork, where possible – and there is at least three times as much if the paperwork is submitted retrospectively to the actual cull. “Not that I wasn’t expecting this, to some extent, but I am sorry. We’ll go back to my rooms so you can get your things, and then I’m afraid I will have to return to work.”

“That is perfectly acceptable, Jane, I know you must be busy. Your position would have many responsibilities; you canter throw them all in just to spend time with me.”

“Oh, well, yes, but. You know, you’ll go back to your ship soon and who knows when we’ll be able to do this again. I’m so greedy, I just want to spend as much time with you as I can manage.” 

Her hand takes yours, thumb smoothing over musclemound between your own and the next finger on your hand. Against yours, her skin is warm and soft and you want to lower your head even more, until you can just inhale the clean scent of her curling hair but you are being watched. It makes your skin prickle, and you do not enjoy it. It makes being calm difficult to manage but you will persevere. One breath in, slow breath out.

“Dinner?” you offer, and she shakes her head. Usually generous mouth twisted and a little pinched at the corner, rueful. You want to kiss that crooked corner until it smooths out into a proper smile, but you refrain. For now. Later, you will have time for both of you to enjoy it, and perhaps continue it further.

“Not tonight – formal dinner. I’d invite you, but it’s kind of a human thing. Even Tavros isn’t invited.” You nod, to show you understand. How could you not? You are very insignificant in the scheme of things, when it comes to the two empires that have allied together. Barely a cog, when it comes down to it. And just as there as there things only known to trolls, of course there are similar things for the humans. That only makes sense. But still, you are a little disappointed that you will not see her for the next meal; you are weak. With your hands intertwined, the two of you leave the gym much more slowly than you left your workshop. “And probably not after that, either!”

“I won’t pretend I’m not saddened by the news,” you say after a moment to hunt for the right words to offer her. Of course you do feel disappointed, but you are aware of her rank and her responsibilities. You are only an enginihilator. A captain. She is a fleet admiral and apparently something similar to a human empress. You are so very far beneath her. How does she even see you, when she is so high? “The time you’ve spent with me is precious enough, and I am wholly recognisant of that fact.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” She squeezes your hand tighter and bumps her shoulder into the upper part of your arm. At that, you have to smile, reaching up to adjust your shades back onto the bridge of your nose. The shove hadn’t budged your path at all as you walk at her side, but you enjoy feeling her STRONGNESS all the same, even if it isn’t as great as yours. “This is important to me too. You’re important, bucko.”

“And I am immensely flattered by that fact, but you still have your duties to attend to. As do I. I will have a great deal of work ahead to fix Nitram’s robotics.” You are in front of her door and she lays her hand on the palmreader, and it slides open, letting you both inside. Laying hand to your toolbelt and other items, you start refastening them around your torso as she taps her fingers restlessly against the nutrition plateau. “Jane.” At your almost pleading tone, she looks over you and her two front teeth are sunk into her lower lip again. “It is going to take longer than I thought. The damage is quite. Well. I won’t be done in a shift or two, I think it is going to take much longer than that. And I will need to recalibrate the entire system once I have installed my improvements. I will be here until I am fully satisfied with my work.”

“And then you’ll be off again, and who knows when I’ll see you,” she lets out in a great sigh and you hesitate, and then touch her shoulder. She puts her hand over yours, and your pusher _aches_. “Don’t mind me. If I wasn’t the one in charge, I’d be able to see you a lot less! I should just buckle down and get on with it. And I will, I always do, I just want to whimper a little about it right now.”

“Mmm.” Not saying anything, you squeeze her shoulder as gently as you can manage, not wanting to hurt her while she rubs her thumb over your scarred knuckles. You appreciate this soft touch just as much as the other things you have done together, in some ways more. It is just. Reassuring that every time she is around you, she reaches out to touch, to hold onto you, as though you are already something precious to her. You are going to ruin this and you don’t know how, but you are sure you will. The only relationship you haven’t ruined is your moirallegiance, and sometimes you think it is solely due to Nepeta’s refusal to let you go. “I did not expect to see you again perhaps until next sweep. For a troll of my rank, that would be more usual, if one of my concupiscent quadrants was assigned to another ship. But since thankfully, Nitram has managed to gain such an amount of prestige...I would not usually be allowed to leave my other projects for a singular troll.”

“Rank hath its privileges, huh?” She laughs, and your shoulders relax at the sound of her amusement. Maybe you have said the right things after all; you are quite inexperienced in any other quadrant besides moirallegiance. Especially in this situation. And Jane is not a troll; she is human and you do not know their ways well at all. So far, so good, but you are often not the most tactful or sensitive of trolls. You could mess up with something you mean entirely innocently. “Don’t it always.”

“That does seem to be the case in both of our species.” Her delighted chuckle at your dry tone warms you and her hand comes off yours finally, and you take it back, snapping one last buckle of your harness together. Taking out your information slate, you open up the map and start to input that you need to find your assigned respiteblock, you want to shower and put on new clothes after the workout in the exerciseblock with Jane. Then to make some notes for you to start with tomorrow, put some ideas down about how to fix the issues with his robotic prostheses. You will manage it, you are sure of your own skills but it is going to be a harder row to work than you had thought it would be. “Well, tomorrow lunch again, perhaps?”

“You know, I can probably just about swing it.”

“If not...there’s still Trollian, although I will try to remember to log out if I am working,” you murmur, and daring greatly, you reach out to tuck a dark curl behind her curved ear. The smile you get makes it apparent that it was the right thing to do, and you could almost float on the heated flush feelings racing through your pusher, pooling inside your thorax, just by being near her. “Though I do not mind your interruptions at all.”

“Mmm, I imagine you don’t. You had a lot of fun that one time, I’m pretty sure,” she says, and her voice has dropped to a purr. The blush that spreads across your face is inescapable, and her laugh delights you as much as it embarrasses you. Especially considering the reason for your blushing. “A lot of mess to clean up?”

“I had to shove the comfortblock I had been using down the obliterifierchute,” you tell her and it’s mostly to hear her delighted hooting laugh. You love to hear her laugh. Even when she’s laughing at you, she’s not laughing _at_ you. “It’s a good thing I am so _strong_ , not many trolls would be able to break it up so it would fit. It was quite ruined, and it was very obvious as to why. And I am the only troll of that particular shade of blue in my working group.”

“Still not sorry in the slightest.”

“...I am not. Either.” You’re blushing but it’s good, because she reaches up to pull your face down to hers by your ears and lays her mouth on yours. The kiss is soft, gentle and shockingly sweet. How did you manage to live without this? What if you had won the argument with Nepeta and not gone to the party. What if, what if, what if...you could ruin your whole life thinking of the vast possibilities, when in so many ways your life could have gone down another happentrack, slid sideways and you would be a different person with different memories because you made different choices. Or maybe because other people did the same, you are not quite so egocentric to think that you are the one who controls everything about your life. Not any more; that illusion was shattered, and shattered hard long ago. “I should go.”

You kiss her again, and her teeth drag over your lower lip and your acid sac makes a slow flip inside your abdomen. “Maybe you should.” Her voice is breathless and you put your hand on her lower back, and your mouths meet, tongues sliding over each other and you need to be so careful with your touch, the way you open your mouth so your fangs don’t graze her skin too deeply. You would not ever want to hurt her, you’re so flushed for her it’s ridiculous, where have these emotions been hiding for all of your life. “Maybe if we are meant to be returning to the ole grind, you shouldn’t be reminding me how easy it is to get you flustered and making me think about how beautiful you look like when you cum.”

“ _Jane_ ,” you almost yelp and she snorts a laugh before pulling harder on your hair in a demand for more of your mouth as you put your information slate down on the table next to you so you can use both of your hands to touch her. She’s so warm in your arms, and you lose yourself in the kiss. “Mm. I really should go. We both have responsibilities...and I am _a mess_.”

“You sweet talker,” she whispers and bites you, puts her leg up against your hip and you almost automatically use your hands to support her so now you’re carrying her, her thighs around your waist as the heels of her shoes press against the small of your back. It’s no effort to hold her weight as she twines her arms around your neck and you both kiss hungrily. Her teeth leave little stinging bites along your lips and you gasp into her mouth as her fingers sink into your hair at the nape of your skull. “You really are a mess.”

“Jane, hnnf, I just put on my toolbelt, _oh fiddlesticks_.” You really had been about to leave, even if you hadn’t truly wanted to and now you really don’t want to. Still, you hesitate because you have duties to fulfil and so does she. And you really have spent quite a lot of time with her just now, more would be greedy. “I should-”

“Do what I tell you.” She bites your ear and you gasp, shudder, your hands tightening on her in response as she squirms against you. You bump into the table and the hard square heel of one of her shoes is pressing down right on a spot on your back that is making you shudder. “I can put things off just a little longer.” Her breath is so hot against your throat, the place where she’s bitten you tingling faintly. “Come on, stud, take me to bed. You know where it is.”

You know because it’s where you first went with her, where she put her hand to your reins and pulled you straight into flush. Carrying her against your body as her fingers work at your toolharness to undo it and let it fall to the floor, you spill her onto her bed and kiss her as you both hurry to disrobe as quickly as you can. Whining in the back of your throat, you are slower, constrained to care as your STRONGNESS makes it difficult for you to match her speed and delicate fingers. Her hands undo your belt and pull your pants along with your underwear down to your knees and her shirt is hanging open, her pants are already gaping. She lifts her hips and you assist, pulling them down and letting her kick them off her legs as shoes go flying. You’re unsheathed in an instant, and it almost hurts, you groan as she chuckles, gets her fingers on you as you hold yourself above her. With one push to your shoulder, you let her topple you as she climbs astraddle your waist. Your dark blue bulge coils against the inside of her thigh and you chirr involuntarily, sweet low sound of mating fondness.

“What do you want, Equius?” she asks you and you flush, bright blue staining across your cheeks. She shifts her hips and you feel your nook clench, the smile on her face is positively _depraved_ , and you know she won’t do anything until you answer. In just the way she wants.

“I, Jane, please, you, I want you to touch me, touch me _please_ ,” you beg and she smiles wider, lets your bulge tangle with her fingers and you moan. Your blue is so dark on her skin and that was your first selfish desire, but it is far from the last. “I w-want to please you, Jane, I have been so selfish, _please_ , I want to service you.” You’re not sure if the words are the right words, if they mean quite the same thing in Earthian as in Alternian but you’re struggling right now as her STRONG fingers with their delicate edges of callous from handling weapons caress your bulge. Your hips buck and you restrain yourself from doing more with a whine, fighting to keep yourself still. You could hurt her if you don’t and you’re shaking apart inside.  


Why are you so needy around her, so open and vulnerable? You are so gosh darn flush for her, it’s kind of exhilarating in its own way.

“Don’t worry, stud, we are going to get to that. Remember how I told you that I was going to be your personal bucket? You like that though, spilling your colour everywhere so wastefully. All that noble blue, tsk.” You chirp as she mock-scolds you and she grins, lifting her hips as she strokes your bulge, you hesitantly run your hands over her hips. The first press of your bulge inside her human nook has you groaning in the back of your throat and you croon at her as she starts to rock, those human mating motions that are quite dissimilar to the twine and writhe of a troll’s mating rhythm but oh, it feels good.

“J-jane, please, I want to pleasure you, please, I, I want...” You are still not entirely sure how to touch her best, this is only the second time you have been allowed to, and as fireworks go off in your nerves at the clench and pulse of her tight hot body around yours, you really can’t manage much more than rough fumblings. Oh, you have to be so careful, there is nothing you would hate more than to see a bruise on her skin and know that you put it there. Or worse, a scratch mark. At least you regularly file your claws so you can manage fine components more easily, it makes injury less likely on her delicate skin. She draws your hands to her breasts and you remember some of what she liked the first time, squeezing gently and playing with the hard sensitive buds that tip them as she sighs. You hope you are doing this properly.

Her hand delves between her legs and your nook clenches on nothing, you trill back as she moans, her fingers rubbing that pleasurebump at the top of her entrance and she tightens around your bulge. You’re dying. It’s too good. Your hands spasm and you pull them back before you hurt her, gasping as she kisses you, her teeth nipping at your lower lip and it’s too fast, it’s too much, you can’t. Oh please. You want to hold on, you want to please her, you want to make her reach her peak but you can’t, you can’t manage your pleasure, it’s too good, she’s too hot and tight around you. You shudder and it’s disgraceful, you can’t even manage such a simple task of self control. But your bulge lashes more strongly within her and you move your hands to her hips, trying not to squeeze down too hard as she tilts her head back and _moans_ , you’re murmuring her name over and over and that’s it, her nook clenches down on you and you’re done. You’re finished.

With her hot and heavy on your chest as she flops down, you gasp for breath and smooth your hand down her back. Your pants are still around your ankles, even if she had lost hers entirely, and you have _ruined_ her platform. Again.

“ _Well._ ”

“Shhh. Only cuddling now, Equius.”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you both have much greater responsibilities to attend to, duties and things to do. Work. It feels like playing hooky for a day and you smooth your fingers through her curls as she rests her head on your chest. You could so easily get used to this.

You are afraid you already are.


	15. Chapter 15

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: striderrrrrrr  
TG: u need to stop hackin the securicams to spy on janey’s <3 bf  
TG: dude just workin out  
TG: altho  
TG: dat is one nice bod  
TG: him being a troll is kind of a turn off  
TG: but i can appreciate the aesthetic of all those rippling muscles  
TG: the long hair, flowing in the nonexistent wind  
TG: like the luxurious mane of some like high class pretty ass horse  
TT: That is a wretched lie.  
TT: You should feel ashamed.  
TT: I would never do something so unbrofessional.  
TG: i am snortin over here mr pants on fire  
TG: its not liek hes about to cause the end of the hfa while hes hanging abt making googoo eyes at janeybabe  
TG: also only 1 troll  
TG: even if he is on the upper end of the rainbow and ridic strong  
TG: be a lil chill dirkey

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TT: I am completely chill, thank you so much for your unneeded commentary.  
TT: Why is no one else ever worried about this kind of shit?  
TT: Why am I the only one who cares that Jane has locked herself into a relationship with two trolls.  
TT: She’s only the closest thing we have to an overarching leader in both military and civilian hierarchy, and she’s romantically involved with aliens.  
TT: This is going to end badly, mark my words, and I won’t fucking hold back on saying ‘I told you so’ either.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] 


	16. Chapter 16

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering adiosToreador [AT]

GG: Ambassador Nitram!  
AT: fLEET ADMIRAL CROCKER,,,  
AT: wHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU,  
AT: iS THIS GOING TO BE SOME SORT OF WARNING NOT TO TALK ABOUT YOU AND EQUIUS,  
AT: bECAUSE YOU’RE REALLY BOTH INCREDIBLY OBVIOUS ABOUT YOUR FLUSHED INFATUATION WITH EACH OTHER,,,  
AT: aND UH, i’M NOT THE BEST AT SUBTERFUGE,  
GG: Oh no, nothing like that.  
GG: I’m not really concerned about who knows or not, and the official paperwork will be in progress shortly! Then everyone important enough to know will know, so it’s a moot point.  
GG: No, I wanted to see if you could source something for me from Alternian trade channels for me.  
AT: lIKE WHAT, dON’T YOU HAVE FULL ACCESS TO EVERYTHING,  
GG: Funnily enough, no!  
GG: There are still a few things that only trolls can buy, and I want you to get me one of those things.  
AT: wELL,,,tHAT DOESN’T SOUND TOO HARD, i CAN DO THAT, bEING OF ASSISTANCE TO THE HUMAN FEDERATED ALLIANCE IS PART OF MY JOB,  
AT: bUT ONLY AS LONG AS I THINK IT WOULDN’T BE HARMFUL, bECAUSE I CAN’T CONTRAVENE THINGS LIKE QUARANTINE AND IF IT’S ILLEGAL, i REALLY CAN’T HELP, yOU MIGHT BE BETTER OFF ASKING, uH, gAMZEE,  
GG: I believe they’re quite legal, on Alternia!  
GG: I want you to get me a nookworm.  
AT: wHAT,  
GG: A sex parasite? I came across them in my assigned readings on troll culture, and I kind of want to have one. For obvious purposes, considering my partners.  
GG: Are they very hard to take care of?  
AT: uH,  
AT: oH WOW, tHAT IS DEFINITELY A QUESTION I HAVE NEVER BEEN ASKED BEFORE NOR A FORM OF ASSISTANCE I AM SURE I HAVE THE EXPERIENCE REQUIRED TO PROVIDE,  
AT: aND IT ACTUALLY MAKES ME FEEL VERY UNCOMFORTABLE TO BE ASKED AT ALL,

adiosToreador [AT] has become an idle chum!

GG: Oh come on!  
GG: Tavros!

adiosToreador [AT] has disconnected!

GG: Heck and darnation.  
GG: I really didn’t want to ask Makara about this one.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT]


	17. Chapter 17

gutsyGumshoe [GG] started pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

GG: Dirk, I have a favour to ask.  
TT: Straight into it, Crocker, no time for chitchat, I see.  
GG: Hoo hoo! Well, if you want, we can have some polite small talk before we proceed. How are things in the intelligence field?  
TT: Fine, absolutely fine.  
TT: I am in no way concerned by the amount of Alternian traffic we have had around the flagship lately.  
GG: Oh, come on, Dirk!  
GG: The anniversary celebration was highly needed, much enjoyed and very useful for diplomatic relations, and since it is now over and done with no major upsets, I am quite prepared to no longer hear about it.  
GG: And if we’re talking about Captain Zahhak, then what, should the Ambassador just walk around in pain until his prostheses finally collapse underneath him?  
GG: We already tried to repair them ourselves, independent of the original inventor, and failed miserably.  
TT: I failed miserably.  
GG: I did not say that.  
TT: It was implied, but that’s fine.  
TT: Should you be allowing him so much access? His identify profile is a little alarming in some areas, particularly in regards to his traditionalist politics and hemospectrum beliefs. He did support the current Empress, but he has some real issues, Jane.  
GG: I have read Captain Zahhak’s profile quite thoroughly, Dirk, and I approved his temporary transfer to the flagship with no reservations regarding his possible behaviour. He has never been involved in intelligence, security or strategy – he is exactly what his title states, an Engineer.  
GG: He is here to fix the robotics in Tavros’ legs by the Ambassador’s personal request as well as with approval from both Commodore Vantas and the Benefice. And he designed them in the first place, so he is obviously the most qualified person to repair them.  
GG: If this is another reminder that you disapprove strongly of my romantic relationships, I am not really prepared to listen to it now. Or ever, really.  
GG: Enough of that. I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think it’s needed.  
GG: I wanted to give you a little engineering project...actually, you might even approve of it.  
TT: Fine, I’ll table that for now. Once again, it seems. So tell me what you actually contacted me for.  
TT: I am aquiver with...anticipation.  
GG: Funny you should reference that Old Earth movie.  
GG: I want you to make me a set of restraints for the troll currently under discussion.  
TT: Restraints?  
TT: Why would you need.  
TT: Oh. That kind of.  
TT: Really, Jane? Why are you asking me?  
GG: :B  
GG: Well, at least you didn’t skedaddle right out of the conversation on me. And I’m asking because I think you will enjoy the challenge.  
GG: You should have gotten some data on the kind of strength Equius has from the work out in the gym.  
GG: Please don’t try and lie to me, Dirk, you probably have a program set up to follow his every move onboard and capture every notation he makes on his information slate. I hope it is proving useful for you and Roxy in further understanding troll technology.  
TT: I will neither confirm nor deny the existence of such a program.  
TT: But I have some idea of the level of physical strength he has, at least I think I do.  
GG: Do you think you can engineer something? I approached Feferi first, but she hasn’t been able to come back with any conclusive measurement. I do have a copy of his last physical assessment, and I can send it through to you.  
TT: Maybe.  
TT: I’ll need to think about it. My strength has always been more centred to AI and programming, not mechanical engineering but I won’t play coy and act like I think I can’t work it out.  
TT: It will be interesting. Something new. And yes, potentially useful to create physical restraints that can restrain a coolblood Alternian of his type of strength.  
TT: Just in case.  
TT: Maybe I’ll give Jade a buzz.  
GG: She would probably enjoy it as well.  
GG: Something concrete to get her teeth into, instead of political hogwash.  
TT: And it would be nice to get in contact with her, just because, of course. Jade is always a good time.  
GG: It’s not an urgent project...but I would kind of like them as soon as you can manage it?  
GG: I know you’re busy.  
TT: I can work on it in my downtime.  
GG: Good. Would you enjoy payment in the form of an orange syrup cake?  
TT: ...I won’t say no. Where did you get oranges from?  
GG: Can’t say.  
TT: You really shouldn’t be buying baking supplies off the black market, Jane.  
GG: I can neither confirm nor deny that this is the case, but since you will be receiving an orange syrup cake, do you really care?  
TT: Funnily enough, I think I don’t.  
GG: Hoo hoo hoo!  
GG: I thought you wouldn’t.  
GG: Thank you, Dirk.  
TT: I still don’t approve.  
GG: I know.  
TT: It’s really a huge security risk, you being so closely involved with two Alternians.  
GG: I know, Dirk, but. Well.  
GG: Things just happen sometimes. If I had found a human partner, they would have been just as likely to be a security risk.  
TT: And I really fucking dislike the clown.  
GG: So do I, and that’s the point! :B  
TT: Kismesissitude is seriously so fucking weird, Jane. How can you do it?  
GG: It’s just fun! Also I really like smacking his despicable face around, Makara looks so much better with a fat lip.  
TT: Unhealthy.  
GG: Are you jealous, Dirk?  
TT: Of you and the freaky alien juggalo? Fucking hell no.  
TT: Just seems dysfunctional.  
GG: It would be by any human measure, but Karkat assures me that our black romance is quite functional by Alternian standards. Since he’s Gamzee’s moirail, I imagine he has his best interests at heart.  
GG: It’s fine, Dirk, don’t worry so much. When are you heading back out into the dating game, that’s what I wonder.  
GG: Sometimes I worry about you as well.  
TT: It’s fine, Crocker, don’t worry your head about it.  
TT: I’m married to my work.  
GG: A cruel and harsh mistress.  
TT: But an exciting one.  
GG: Really, Dirk, is that all you want? Jake would feel awful if he knew that you had cut yourself off so deeply. He still cares about you, you know!  
TT: Well, Jake absconded with that troll with the ram horns and the creepy grin to explore the far reaches of space, so I don’t think he gets to have much of an opinion on anything I do.  
TT: What is with this troll thing, I swear.  
GG: Bulges are very nice. I really must recommend them, although I do think Jake’s interest is purely cerebral and he is actually primarily interested in the galactic exploration, not in any sort of alien exploration!  
TT: Oh, my god.  
TT: Shut up, Jane.  
TT: I expect my cake within the next week.  
GG: :B

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]


	18. Chapter 18

Nitram’s legs pop off quite easily when all is said and done. You remove a few connectors, separate some attachments, unhook a few wires and he is legless. You had designed his cradle for ease of access and repair, to manage his legs and their gears and servos separate to the actual neurobonding to his spine, but it’s actually useful now. You really had never thought you would need to do this. You could not have foreseen what has happened here.

Who has touched your precious work in such a ham-handed, fumble fingered way? You really want to. No. Stop. Breathe. You are fine. You do not need your moirail, you are perfectly capable of controlling yourself. It all just itches under your skin like you have put on decency coverings which Nepeta had been using as a napping platform without you realizing (her hair, sometimes it just gets everywhere, and she has a tendency to choose all of your clothes as a place to catnap) (she says it’s comfortable, and smells like you).

“I assume you have figured out some way to manoeuvre yourself around once I am finished with the disconnection,” you say to the brownblood, carefully working to make sure that the stumps are fully enclosed and protected in the temporary caps. They are long healed, but better safe than sorry. An infection would be problematic, detain you for even longer until he was healed and you could properly install the neurogrubs into a healthy body able to bear the insertion and then also the bonding to every neural sheath. It’s an intensive and invasive process, but in the end, this time at least, it should be to the receiver’s benefit.

It isn’t always.

“Yes, I have arranged with one of the humans I have formed a closer personal relationship with to assist me, at least for a few hours until I am used to it. After that, I think I will be able to manage on my own. Uh, are you sure it’s going to take as long as you said it would?”

“Yes.” Your tone is abrupt, but you can’t help yourself. You will take exactly as long as you need to in order to fix this. And you will do it properly. You always do your work properly and to the best of your abilities, even when it is so evidently unappreciated. “I would not be expecting it to take so long, if you had not allowed someone to attempt to, to what? Butcher my work? What made you think _allowing someone else_ access to the inner workings of such sensitive prosthetics was a good idea?” You can hear the growl curling through your voice and he is flinching back against the bed, your pusher is accelerating and you turn as the door opens with a silent whoosh. You do not mean to threaten him, but you are so irritated, and somethings are more instinctual than cognitive, especially the reaction of a lowblood to a displeased highblood. You need to stop it, get a hold of yourself. Nitram probably didn’t understand quite how precise your mechanics are, and couldn’t have understood how you would feel about the mess inside his legs either. Breathe. Calm.

“Well, I have a confession to make on that end.” There’s a new voice, and a singularly pale, almost lusus white, human is standing in the door. He’s wearing stupidly oversized triangular shades, and not any sort of uniform, his shoulders are slouched but it’s a battle stance he has his feet in, you recognise it and you can feel your hands curling into fists. You’re not good at reading humans usually, but even if his face is studiedly blank, his pose reeks of insolence. You do not find yourself to bein the mood to tolerate it. “When the servos started clicking in his knees, I took a look at it. Interesting work, very complex.” His low voice is a drawl and it scrapes right over every last one of your nerves. 

“While I would normally appreciate a compliment on the quality of my work - you didn’t just look.”

Your voice is a growl. 

“Oh, no. No, you’re right. I had a bit of a poke around inside.” He steps into the room and goes to Tavros’ side and you step back, fighting to control your temper. “Hey, Tavros. I’ve got the chair in the corridor, I’ll help you get in it and then we’ll go. Looks like everything are under control here, Captain Zahhak surely knows what he is doing.” He puts a hand on the lowblood’s shoulder, and then passes around the comfort platform to go to where you’ve laid the prosthetics on your work bench. Ready, waiting for you. For you to fix what he’s ruined. What he broke with ham fisted fumblings, and interference in something he should have left alone. His hand reaches out and -

“Don’t touch those.” Your voice is low, dangerous and you almost don’t recognise it as yours. There is a crawling feeling on the back of your neck. He turns his head, and you can’t see his eyes through the shades, just as he can’t see yours. The line of his jaw catches your attention, and you can see yourself smashing your first into it, breaking the smooth diagonal, crumpling it. It’s a mathematically perfect line and you want to destroy it.

“Well, not much I can do to them now, is there? I’m not the one with superstrength, I’m a regular old human. Well...more or less. As much of a regular human as Jane.” He wiggles his fingers at you as he utters her name so casually, slim and strong looking, you blink, and you notice a callous on his palm that you would associate with sword play. And then he turns back to the table. You can feel the growl in your chest ratcheting up as he turns his back on you, presenting you with the vulnerability of his spine _as though you were not a threat_ , as though you hadn’t just warned him not to do exactly what he seems set on doing. Mostly to aggravate you. “I only want a look, no tools, just hands.”

“Uh, Equius, Dirk, maybe you should-”

“I said, _not to touch them._ ” Your vision is arrowing in as you hear Nitram’s worried voice from behind you and you grit your teeth, you hear something crack at the back of your jaw. You’re sweating; you can’t look away to grab a towel in case he damages your work further. You’re not sure now if it was merely untutored meddling, now you are beginning to suspect something more malicious; no, that’s impossible, how would he even know that this was your work, and who you were. Why would he care? His hand is hovering over the metal, as though he’s taunting you. If he was a troll...no, he can’t possibly understand the signals he’s sending to you. That is absolutely ludicrous. “You can take Nitram out, now, and leave me to my work. I presume you have the four wheel device.”

“It’s actually traditionally more of a two wheel device and a little bit more of a hovercraft at this point in human technological progress, but yeah. It’s in the corridor, like I said before.” You take a needed breath and he turns from the prostheses without touching them, goes to the door, goes out, comes back in with his hands on the handlebars of what looks like a floating comfortblock with round shapes at the side of it, not quite wheels. Enclosed, safe. Good. You wouldn’t mind having a look at its mechanisms, maybe when you re-install the prostheses; you might ask if you can open this one up. It’s a distracting thought, and you cling to it. Nitram is looking at you with a worried frown, before he switches his attention to the human. “Alright, easy over, Ambassador.” You watch as he assists the brownblood to move from bed to chair, and you go to the biosack to continue distracting yourself from how much you want to punch him in the face.

You really, _really_ want to punch him in the face, it’s quite uncanny. But you suppose it’s not really quite an instant dislike, you’ve been stewing over the alterations – intentionally inflicted breakages – on Nitram’s legs since you opened the case and figured out what was the cause of the malfunction. Honestly. Would it have been so hard to have just contacted you, somehow?

“Dirk, you, uh, don’t really have to call me that. I have told you before, it’s unnecessary. Especially since you invited me to use your own personal name, already, just as you heard me say it, a moment ago.” 

You pretend it’s because you’re concerned about the biogrubs which is why you’re fiddling with the controls to the humidifor of the nurserysack, but you’re watching him from the corner of your eye. This _Dirk_. You don’t trust him. You are right not to trust him, because even as Nitram is awkwardly moving the floating chair from the room to outside to attend to his other duties as much as he can while somewhat immobile, you blink, and he’s right back at the table with the prostheses. _How did he move so fast?_

“Wait, I said _not to_ to-”

It’s as though he waits, just for that moment as your outraged snarl bursts through your chirpbox to put a long fingered hand down on the knee of one of Nitram’s prostheses and you swear, you see _black_ slur across your vision in a haze of spades. People often underestimate your speed when they look at the bulk of your shoulders and the general solidness of your body, but all of your muscles are STRONG and that includes your legs. You surprise even yourself at how quickly you vault the comfort slab Tavros was so lately lying on, one hand in the centre leaving a dent before you land on your feet by his side, and you grab this hideously irritating, _generally and personally offensive_ human by the scruff of the shirt he’s wearing, your fingers tearing through it but you have enough of a grip on that and the back of his neck to push him towards the door.

“ _OUT!_ ” 

Nitram’s mouth is open as he stares at you from the position he’s reached in the corridor as your voice booms with every ounce of rage that you are not allowing to control you to the point that you break this fragile neck you hold in your hand, and you _throw_ the suddenly stumbling, almost spiderlike in his flailing, no longer pronghornbeast graceful lusus-human straight out the door. You can hear yourself breathing, and it’s harsh, you feel like you could kill both of them in one moment, you haven’t felt this kind of rage in a while and you slap your hand against the door closing mechanism so hard it cracks. It takes too long to close anyway on the combination of their shocked faces, one troll grey-black and the other human pale, and you almost threw the human _through the wall_ instead of just out of the room, and you claw at your chest, tearing through the material of your shirt to dig your claws into the skin underneath, shuddering, stagger sideways as you step back into the room. Your chest hurts, your pusher is beating too fast, out of rhythm and sweat is pouring off your face, your neck, you’ve soaked your shirt through, it’s stinging in the cuts you just inflicted on yourself.

You are so. Angry.

Winding up one arm, you punch a hole right through the bed that had been brought in for Nitram and then continue on to methodically destroy it. Shredding and twisting the metal frame of it, dragging your claws through the mattress until it explodes in a shower of material. You sink to your knees in the middle of your localised meltdown and try to breathe. The rage is still making your hands twitch and you can’t afford to wreck anything else, you need everything that is here for your work, you don’t have the luxury of going off in a highblood rage, you’re on a human ship without your moirail, you are so ashamed of yourself, what will Jane think of what you have done, how could you do this, how could you, you need. Nepeta. Oh, you need your moirail, please let her be there, please let her please let her please please -

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

CT: D --> Nepeta  
CT: D --> Nepeta please  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> I can’t do this by myself  
CT: D --> Nepeta please I need you  
CT: D --> I can’t  
CT: D --> I’m so gosh darn angry and he just wouldn’t  
CT: D --> He would not stop  
CT: D --> I have not hurt anyone but  
CT: D --> Nepeta it was so fiddlesti%ing close  
CT: D --> I am so ashamed  
AC XOO < EQUIUS ZAHHAK!  
AC :33 < you will breathe!  
AC :33 < inininininin  
AC :33 < and ouuuuuut  
AC :33 < and innnnnnn again  
AC :33 < and ouuuuuut  
AC :33 < are you breathing with me equihiss  
CT: D --> Yes  
CT: D --> Nepeta  
CT: D --> Please I can’t  
AC :33 < rub your horns for me equihiss  
AC :33 < along your ch33ks  
AC :(( < i wish i was there fur you right meow  
AC :33 < horns and ch33ks equihiss go  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Yes Nepeta  
CT: D --> I am doing it  
AC :33 < you are so good fur me!  
AC :33 < breathe in, breathe out  
AC :33 < innnnnn slow  
AC :33 < outtttt slow  
AC :33 < rub your ch33ks harder  
AC :33 < rub the back of your neck now  
AC :33 < get your claws into your hairline  
AC :33 < we are going to have such a f33lings jam when youre back here equihiss  
AC :33 < i am going to snuggle you silly  
AC :33 < you wont be tempted to be mad fur at least a cycle! Maybe even a sw33p!  
AC :33 < gonna wash your hair  
AC :33 < were gonna bathe together fur once i dont even care what you think is purrlite  
CT: D --> Please  
AC :33 < gonna comb my claws so slow through your mane so its ready to be washed  
AC :33 < purring the water down through your mane until its so nice and wet  
AC :33 < get it nice and wet fur you, all ready fur me to do the next bit  
AC :33 < rub the panstrand cleaner all the way through  
CT: D --> Oh  
CT: D --> Oh Nepeta  
AC :33 < im gonna take such good care of you  
AC :33 < hide your eyes with my grasper as i rinse the cleaner out with nice pure water  
AC :33 < then im gonna put in the softener  
AC :33 < let it sit and im gonna wash your face while it works on your mane  
AC :33 < im gonna clean it  
AC :33 < im gonna get my furonds all over your face and your ch33ks  
AC :33 < you wont be able to hide a thing furom me  
AC :33 < im gonna runnn my furonds down your face to your windchute while youre lion in the ablutiontrap with me  
AC :33 < and you gonna let me do this  
AC :33 < because im your meowrail  
AC :33 < and i am so pale fur you that you know i would nefur nefur hurt you  
CT: D --> Nepeta I  
AC :33 < shhhshooooosh  
AC :33 < shooooosh  
AC :33 < then ill wash the softener out, nice and slow  
AC :33 < your mane is gonna f33l so nice  
AC :33 < gonna rub my digits real nice and slow all around your horns  
AC :33 < theres gonna be bubbles in the bath, itll be so nice until we get out of the water when were all finished  
AC :33 < and im gonna dry your mane out, gentle, with the heat extruder  
AC :33 < then im gonna brush it out  
AC :33 < imagine me brushing your hair equihiss  
AC :33 < nice and slow, nice and slow  
AC :33 < breathe with the strokes like im brushing your hair, you know how i like to do it  
AC :33 < the back of your vertebral support bare to me  
AC :33 < just me  
AC :33 < because you pity me  
AC :33 < and i pity mew

You’re blushing, but you follow her instructions devotedly as you sit in the middle of the debris of the comfort platform that you had just destroyed so you did not lay hands on the true target of your anger. Selfsoothing, selfpacifying like a lonely wriggler without a lusus or a pale quadrant, but your moirail is here, or as good as she can be. As well as she can manage. Your breathing slows, your fingers rub circles into your cheeks and the beds of your horns as her beloved olive green text fills up the inside of your shades. You are so glad you have them. You don’t know what you would have done without them, you would not have been able to touch an information slate safely, you would have put a digit through it, cracked it. 

You hope no one can see you. Or if they do, you hope they have the decency to ignore it. You would rather that this moment of vulnerability was kept as private as possible. A troll would have the decency to ignore it, even if they did see it – you aren’t sure what to expect from humans. You don’t know what kind of social mores they would have around a situation like this, and you don’t want any of them to see you like this. All you want is your moirail, and she is star systems away.

AC :33 < equihiss?  
AC :33 < how are you f33ling?  
CT: D --> Better  
CT: D --> Much better, thank you, Nepeta  
CT: D --> I am truly s  
AC :PP < no sorries allowed!  
AC :33 < shoooosh  
AC :33 < im your meowrail  
CT: D --> The best moirail  
AC :33 < im almost giddy with unpurrsolved pale over here equihiss  
AC :33 < so tell me what happened  
AC :33 < what upset you so much?  
CT: D --> Well  
CT: D --> I shod start at the beginning  
CT: D --> I found out why Nitram’s prostheses stopped working  
CT: D --> Someone had opened them up, to try and fi% them but they did not understand my work  
CT: D --> And wound up breaking them instead  
CT: D --> The things that have been done to my prostheti% and the robotic work  
CT: D --> So ill considered  
CT: D --> An orange wire was what clued me in that someone had been meddling  
CT: D --> Orange  
CT: D --> In my roboti%  
CT: D --> And then just now  
CT: D --> I

You pour the whole story out into the blue text as Nepeta occasionally interjects, seeking a clarification or to calm you down as you start getting angry again. All you need is to be left alone with your moirail, and surprisingly, perhaps – you are. No human enters to disturb you. The door remains closed.

Despite the physical distance, it is one of the more fulfilling feelings jams you have with your moirail in a while. This is perhaps because of the emotionally fraught subject matter under discussion. It is not spades. You do not even hint at such with her, and you merely say that the level of incompetence followed by obviously platonic needling, probably driven by some sort of jealousy on the human’s part had led to you throwing him out of the room. You should not have lost your temper, you still feel embarrassed and you believe you will for some time to come.

It has been a very long time since you have been so irritated by someone, however. And he was so ridiculously blatant about how he was intending to needle you. Petty, wiggler level nonsense. So very immature. And, his attire was atrocious. You really wish Nitram hadn’t seen you explode like that. It was unbecoming of someone of your blood colour to act so in front of someone so much further down on the hemospectrum. You should have better control.

CT: D --> On the whole, I think I will just avoid him  
CT: D --> I haven’t seen him befoal, it hoofnestly shouldn’t be hard  
AC :33 < i think that would be fur the best  
AC :33 < its a big ship, isnt it?  
CT: D --> Very  
AC :33 < just ask tavros not to allow him around you!  
AC :33 < purrblem solved  
AC :33 < tavros can purrbably ask someone else to help him  
AC :33 < im sure!  
CT: D --> Yes, I will ask him to do that  
CT: D --> And when I leave the ship, it is highly unlikely I will ever see him again  
AC :33 < i dont usually advocate complete avoidance to solve a purrblem  
AC :33 < but in this case i think i will  
CT: D --> Besides that  
CT: D --> Things have been fine  
CT: D --> I will repair the prostheti%  
CT: D --> And perform the neurogrub surgery  
CT: D --> And then I will come hive once I am sure everything will be well  
AC :33c < i am so washing your hair

You cover your mouth for a moment and feel the blush return to your face. She is really. That is so. Sometimes she’s so blatant. It really warms you inside, but at the same time...you’re glad no one else will see this. It would be indecent. The entire conversation is more than a little pornographic, if you must be honest.

Bubble baths and hair washing indeed. All she needs to do to complete the pale porn trifecta is toss in some clawcare.

Not that you’ve ever watched. Anything like that. You are merely aware of the trope.

AC :33 < bubble bath, equihiss  
AC :33 < its gonna be so nice! im looking forward to it quite a lot  
CT: D --> Nepeta  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Well, I suppose we can, in my quarters  
CT: D --> It may be a little cramped but we should fit  
AC :33 < h33h33!  
AC :33 < youll love it  
AC :33 < you can wash my hair too  
AC :33 < not as mighty a task, but itll still f33l nice fur me  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> I do enjoy taking care of you, Nepeta  
CT: D --> I feel sometimes I do not do it enough  
CT: D --> You do so much for me  
AC :33 < equihiss zahhak  
AC :33 < mew stop prodding at that  
AC :33 < you could nefur make me do something i didnt want to do  
AC :33 < not efur!  
AC :33 < and i like taking care of mew  
AC :33 < i like it a lot  
AC :33 < relax a little  
AC :33 < there are ofur things you do fur me that i enjoy and apurrciate  
CT: D --> Well  
AC :33 < shooooosh  
AC :33 < the mighty huntress has spoken!  
AC :33 < the noble stallion will now desist from f33ling bad about who looks after who more

You smile a little at the other end, and you feel more or less back to normal. You still need to clean up the mess, and then contact Nitram and be quite firm about your need not to be around this Dirk. Ever. You will wipe him from your mind. You will do your work, and fix this, and then...you will leave. Maybe with some distance, you’ll be able to deal with this more easily, put some time between the combined issues of Nitram’s prostheses and your immediate emotional response, and the next time you meet up with this Dirk human, you are sure you will be much more able to ignore his...whatever that was.

CT: D --> I need to clean up here  
CT: D --> I  
CT: D --> Well, I broke something  
AC :33 < better a something than a someone!  
AC :33 < itll be ok equihiss  
AC :33 < you didnt mean it  
CT: D --> I hope it will be  
CT: D --> Humans are a more peacable species by far  
CT: D --> I hope they actually do understand  
AC :33 < well! jane has a highblood kismesis, so she should defurinately understand!  
AC :33 < thats what youre really worried about, isnt it

You wince. That wasn’t. Sometimes, you wish she wasn’t so good at reading you, even when you’re not there for her to see the twitches in your face. This is a text conversation. You shouldn’t be so blatant, but since she’s brought it up, you aren’t going to lie and say you aren’t concerned about Jane’s reaction. That would lead into a yes no argument that could go for a very long time, and you’re not really in the mood to go through with that, the lesser evil is to just admit it.

CT: D --> Yes, it is  
CT: D --> Do you think she will understand?  
AC :33 < equihiss, i really think she will!  
AC :33 < and besides, your restraint was actually very good  
AC :33 < you called me right away  
AC :33 < and you didnt hurt anyone  
AC :33 < its ok  
AC :33 < things can be fixed, or replaced  
AC :33 < youre ok  
CT: D --> It feels so wigglerish  
CT: D --> Immature  
CT: D --> Entirely unprofessional, I am here on work assignment  
AC :33 < youre in a stressful situation and im not with you  
AC :33 < you did ok  
CT: D --> I believe I disagree  
CT: D --> But what is done is done  
AC :33 < you worry too much  
AC :33 < clean your face and graspers before you go out  
CT: D --> Yes Nepeta  
CT: D --> I am not really a wriggler, I will be quite fit to be seen when I leave  
CT: D --> Although ablutions would be advised  
CT: D --> I have perspired profusely  
AC :33 < lock up, go shower  
AC :33 < breathe  
CT: D --> I have enjoyed spending time with Jane, but  
CT: D --> I miss you  
AC :33 < and i miss you too, you big worryworn lump  
AC :33 < but this will be fine  
AC :33 < youll be fine  
CT: D --> Alright  
CT: D --> I will do my best to ensure that is true  
AC :33 < equihiss that’s not what i meant!  
AC :33 < but ok  
AC :33 < apawlagise and move on  
AC :33 < humans s33m to be quite casual about some things, this might be one of them  
AC :33 < you really alright?  
CT: D --> I am now  
CT: D --> I should go  
CT: D --> I’ve probably interrupted your work  
AC :33 < its fine, youre fine, im fine  
AC :33 < no ones going to mind i took a little break beclaws my meowrail is having a crisis!  
AC :33 < youre more impurrtant than you think  
AC :33 < are you sure youre ok?  
CT: D --> Yes  
CT: D --> I am going to clean up and shower  
CT: D --> And then I am going to work on a personal project for a while  
CT: D --> Put off the important roboti% work until I am fully calm  
AC :33 < sure sounds like a plan!  
AC :33 < message me immediately if you n33d me  
AC :33 < pale fur mew, you sweaty wreck  
CT: D --> <>  
AC :33 < im gonna buy some real nice bubblebath, fur when you get back  
AC :33 < itll purrbably be a real scandal at the commissary since youre not here right meow!  
AC :33 < <>  
CT: D --> Goodbye Nepeta  
CT: D --> I should be headed back to the Absolutism within two cycles  
CT: D --> It’s not that long  
AC :33 < see you mew soon

centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

You push the shades upwards, rubbing your thumb and forefinger in on either side of your nose, trying to massage out the tension headache you’ve given yourself. You wish she was here. With a sigh, you get to your feet and start cleaning up your mess, stacking the pieces you shattered together in a corner. The ripped comfortslab you prop up on the pile. It should be easy for the janiterrorists to remove. When you’ve managed that, you check on the bionursery, making sure that the grubs are still happy, and they are. At least something is going as it should.

Pressing your hands against your face, you sigh. 

A shower, a meal, a sopor patch. Work on the little...something you are designing for Jane. It sounds nice. Relaxing. You will be fine.

You will move past this. Like you always do, and you will try harder, you will be better, you will not. Will not. Be at the mercy of your temper when you are working, when you have something that you need to get done. You are better than that. You know you can be better than that. There is a time and place, and this was neither of them. Had been neither of them.

Emissary, you still want to punch him right in the jaw and he’s not even in the room.


	19. Chapter 19

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Roxy.  
TT: Roxy.  
TT: Roxy.  
TT: Roxy.  
TT: Roxy.  
TT: I know you’re there and I will continue to ping you until you answer me.  
TT: Roxy.  
TT: Roxy.  
TT: Roxy Ebenezer Lalonde.  
TG: thass not my middle name dirk odessa strider  
TG: an u know that soooo…  
TG: im kinda in the middle of some leet hax here but u sound a lil desprate  
TG: so u get 3 secs!  
TT: Roxy, you need to help me.  
TG: lmaooooo wft?  
TG: *wtf?  
TG: with whut?  
TT: Roxy. Oh my fucking god.  
TT: Obviously Jane’s flushed troll is on the flagship to fix the ambassador’s robotic legs. We’re all aware of how I don’t approve, don’t interrupt me yet.  
TT: I was assisting Nitram with the chair, which is where we came across each other, because of course he is there, removing the prosthetics prior to repair. It is what he’s here for, ostensibly, at least.  
TT: Apparently he takes offence to my alterations to his work. I am talking Montoya levels of offense, like I squashed his lusus or whatever.  
TT: He threw me out of the room by the scruff of the neck.  
TT: He’s already blown up one of my computers while I was using it.  
TT: He’s some kind of sweaty, horse obsessed bishounen troll who could punch out a mountain and is also a robotics/mechanical prodigy.  
TT: He’s fucking hot, what do I do?  
TT: I want to ride him like an unbroken stallion until he _is_ fucking broken.  
TT: This is so fucking unfair. Why is this happening to me? I don’t even like trolls, and I definitely don’t want to fuck them.  
TG: LOLLOLOLOLOLOL LMFAOOOOO  
TG: lmaooooo imma tell jane on u!  
TT: Don’t you fuckin dare.  
TG: idk, get him in spades babe  
TG: sounds like sum sort of passionate loathing to me  
TG: unf unf  
TG: ride that stallion, cowboy, yeehaw  
TT: This isn’t what I would call helpful, Rox.  
TG: i dunno y u askin me neway, misterrrr strider  
TG: my success in the fields of romance is less than stellar  
TG: exhibit a: janey in a poly relationship with 2 actual aliens w glorious tentadicks  
TG: exhibit b: the two boys i cast my ladylike wiles at were no 1 gay n no 2 ace  
TG: we’re bth romcom failure dorks  
TT: Let’s not dwell on the past.  
TG: yes better not mention jake english  
TG: at least we’re still talkin 2 each other despite yr crushing of my girlish hopes and dreams  
TT: I just said we weren’t going to dwell on the past.  
TG: maybe just talk to him  
TT: Who, Jake? Isn’t he exploring somewhere in the Hydra Super galaxy right now?  
TG: lol no  
TG: the strilish ship has long fuckin sailed away and is also on fire  
TG: even if he wasnt out of transible range  
TG: horse troll boy is who i meant  
TT: Hahahahaha. Ha.  
TT: No.  
TT: Did you miss the part where he threw me out of the workroom like I was some importunate alley cat getting fur all over his white couch?  
TG: u were probly being v annoying, it is yr specialititty  
TG: guess u b doomed to lust helplessly from afar over yr sexy bishounen sweaty musclemountain then  
TG: idk what u want me to say dirkiepoo  
TG: if u can deal with quadrants, one of his sexy tiem ones is probs open  
TG: if u wants the boy shalalalala u should kiss the boy  
TG: at least talk to the fucking boy u no wot i mean?  
TG: i g2g, just think bout it, k?  
TT: I don’t want to talk to him.  
TT: I’m just going to put this out of my mind.  
TT: Besides, it would be kind of bizarre to crossdate with Jane.  
TG: just don get creepy  
TT: Creepy? What creepy? I’m not creepy, Horsedick McSweat is the creepy guy.  
TT: I am not the creep here.  
TT: Have you seen what he calls art? I’ve been in his husktop’s document files. Furry fetish porn and dicks, dicks everywhere.  
TT: He’s a fucking furry, Roxy.  
TG: mmmm  
TG: how is the weather down on de nile?  
TG: i always heard old aegypt was nice n sunny  
TT: For Pete’s sake.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TG: bois. like damn.  
TG: smdh 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering  timaeusTestified [TT]


	20. Chapter 20

adiosToreador [AT] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

AT: oK, SO,,,  
AT: hI KARKAT,  
CG: SPIT IT OUT NOOKWHIFF, DON’T CHOKE ON YOUR OWN FUCKING TONGUE.  
CG: I’M A BUSY SORT OF GUY, I’M KIND OF A BIG FUCKING DEAL.  
CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT?  
AT: sO,,,, yOU KNOW HOW YOU’RE THE THIRD LEAF BETWEEN ERIDAN AND FEFERI,  
AT: hOW DID,,, UH, tHAT COME ABOUT,,,,, eXACTLY,  
CG: WHY THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THAT HEINOUS PILE OF HOOFBEAST DROPPINGS?  
CG: IT’S A DISGUSTING MESS OF A SITUATION AND SHOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED.  
CG: AND IT WOULDN’T HAVE IF ERIDAN HAD BEEN LESS OF A TAINTCHAFING BULGESORE AND FEFERI WAS A LITTLE MORE OBSERVANT.  
CG: PINNACLE OF THE HEMOSPECTRUM, MY WEEPING PUSTULANT ASS.  
CG: I STEPPED IN TO STOP THEM FROM BEING AS FUCKING IDIOTIC AS THEY COULD BE AT EACH OTHER AND THE REST IS HISTORY.  
CG: AND MY UNENDING FUCKING CRACKED THINKPAN ACHE BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY THE ONLY PERSON WHO WAS GOING TO STOP THEM SPRAYING NOBLE BLOOD FROM ONE SIDE OF THE GALAXY TO THE OTHER WAS ME. PLEASE ALLOW THAT TO SINK IN FOR A MOMENT, I REGRET EVERY SECOND SINCE I EVER LET IT DRIBBLE INTO THE ROTTEN SEGMENTS OF MY HATEBILEBLADER AND LET THE ASHEN FEELINGS FLOWER.  
CG: IT WAS STUPID. I SHOULD HAVE LET THEM FUCKING KILL EACH OTHER, THE VAST GLUB WOULD HAVE AT LEAST BROUGHT AN END TO THE SEARING AGONY IN MY COGNITIVEMEATS AND BEEN LESS OF A TRIAL TO MY CHIRPBOX. IT TAKES A LOT OF SCREAMING TO GET THROUGH THEIR THICK BRAINCASES.  
AT: uH, oK, sO I GUESS WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY IS,,,,  
AT: i JUST SEEM TO HAVE KIND OF FALLEN INTO A SITUATION HERE,,,, AND IT IS A SITUATION I NEVER WANTED TO BE IN WITH PEOPLE I DON’T WANT TO BE INVOLVED WITH,  
AT: bUT I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN GO AWAY AND LEAVE IT,,, bECAUSE I THINK THAT WILL BE WORSE THAN IF I DIDN’T MEDDLE IN IT,  
AT: aND THINGS ARE LOOKING LIKE THEY WILL SPIRAL OUT OF CONTROL AND THE TROLL IN QUESTION WHO I DON’T REALLY WANT TO NAME, hE IS ALREADY IN A CONCUPISCENT CORNER WITH A HUMAN,  
AT: aND YOU REMEMBER, hOW THE EMPRESS SAID YOU ONLY GET ONE IF YOU’RE A PSIONIC, pSYCHICALLY GIFTED IN A WAY CONSIDERED ADVANTAGEOUS TO THE GLORY OF ALTERNIA OR HIGHER THAN COBALT,  
CG: YES, I HELPED WRITE THE ACTUAL FUCKING QUADRANT GUIDELINES WHEN IT BECAME CLEAR THAT BOTH SPECIES WERE FULL OF DISGUSTING DEVIANTS.  
CG: I AM COMPLETELY AWARE OF WHAT THE EMPRESS’S DECREES SAY ON THIS REVOLTINGLY CONCUPISCENT MATTER.  
AT: iT COULD BE SAID THAT HE IS ONE OF THOSE CATEGORIES,,,, bUT THERE ARE DEFINITELY BLACK CURRENTS HAPPENING AND I THINK,  
AT: i THINK I’M GOING TO HAVE TO STEP IN AND STOP IT SOMEHOW EVEN THOUGH I THINK I AM ONE OF THE LEAST CAPABLE TROLLS FOR THE TASK,,,, aLTHOUGH THE ONLY ONE ON HAND,  
AT: oR IT WILL DEFINITELY END UP IN SPADES AND I CAN SEE SO MANY REASONS WHY IT CAN’T BE ALLOWED TO GET THAT FAR,  
AT: iS THIS WHAT BEING ASHEN FEELS LIKE,  
AT: i DON’T THINK I LIKE IT VERY MUCH,,,  
CG: YOU POOR MISERABLE FUCKING BASTARD.  
CG: WELCOME TO HELL.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling adiosToreador [AT]

AT: uUUUH,  
AT: kARKAT,  
AT: kARKAT, i COULD REALLY USE SOME HELP HERE,

carcinoGeneticist [CG] is an idle troll!

AT: oH  
AT: i GUESS I SHOULD TAKE THIS AS YOUR REFUSAL TO ASSIST ME IN THIS INCREASINGLY UNCOMFORTABLE AND RAPIDLY ESCALATING SITUATION THEN,  
AT: }:(

adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]


	21. Chapter 21

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering adiosToreador [AT]

TG: its one of my favest troll, tavvie!  
AT: tHAT IS REALLY NOT MY NAME, i THINK I KNEW A TAVVIE ONCE WHEN I WAS IN TRAINING AND I DON’T THINK I LIKED THEM VERY MUCH, uM, oR ENJOYED THEIR COMPANY,  
AT: i WILL HAVE TO ASK YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT, aND INSTEAD USE MY PROPER NAME, pLEASE,,,i WOULD MUCH PREFER IT IF YOU CALLED ME TAVROS, aND UM, nOT TAVVIE,,,eVER AGAIN,,,  
TG: aw  
TG: :(  
TG: soz, didnt mean to make things uncomf or awkies, tavros  
TG: just a human nicknaemey thing  
TG: wont do it again, i pinkie swear!  
TG: neway i wanted to ask you a thing!  
AT: pLEASE DON’T ASK ME ANYTHING SEXUAL, tHAT IS REALLY NOT PART OF MY ROLE AS ALTERNIAN AMBASSADOR, aT LEAST I HOPE IT ISN’T,  
AT: i DON’T THINK IT SHOULD BE, bUT SOME OF THE QUESTIONS I HAVE BEEN ASKED LATELY HAVE BEEN OF THAT TYPE OF NATURE AND UH, mADE ME VERY UNCOMFORTABLE AND I WOULD PREFER NOT TO BE FACED WITH MORE,  
TG: um? suddenly i am afire with curiosity n so maaaany ?s, but my question is rly moar romantic  
TG: pls explain auspisticing! i wanna get a better idea of it, moar personal  
TG: that isnt concupiscent, accordin 2 my notes  
TG: apparently you are stepping in for dirky and mr zahhak, thats the goss i got at least  
AT: aT THE MOMENT, tHAT IS NOT QUITE A TRUE DESCRIPTION OF THE SITUATION AND UH, i DO NOT KNOW IF THEY WOULD ACCEPT ME TO BE THEIR MIDDLE LEAF AND,,,i HAVEN’T MADE A FORMAL OFFER, yET, i HAVE MERELY SPECULATED THAT THEY MIGHT NEED ONE,  
AT: tHEY MIGHT NOT ACCEPT, iT IS WELL WITHIN THEIR RIGHTS TO REJECT ANY OFFER I MAKE BUT I DO NOT THINK THAT A TRUE KISMESISSITUDE WILL SUIT EITHER OF THEM, uH, aND ALSO I AM NOT SURE THAT ANY HUMAN COULD SURVIVE ONE WITH EQUIUS AND HE ALREADY HAS FILLED ONE OF HIS CONCUPISCENT QUADRANTS WITH A HUMAN AND IT WOULD BE ILLEGAL, a POSSIBLY CULLWORTHY OFFENCE TO FILL HIS OTHER WITH ANOTHER ALIEN, sO, tHERE ARE A LOT OF REASONS AS TO WHY THEY WILL NEED TO FIND ONE, rEALLY SOON,  
TG: holy shizz u sound rly serious about this!  
AT: mY SUGGESTION WOULD BE THEY FIND AN AUSPITICE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, rOXY, aND I AM REALLY VERY SINCERE ABOUT THAT, eQUIUS IS HERE WITHOUT HIS MOIRAIL AND SHE IS HIS MOST STABILISING INFLUENCE, i WOULD HAVE ASKED FOR HER TO COME WITH HIM IF I HAD KNOWN THAT THE MISHANDLING OF HIS WORK WOULD UPSET HIM SO MUCH,  
AT: i SHOULD HAVE REALISED THAT IT COULD END BADLY ALTHOUGH I DO NOT THINK I COULD BE BLAMED FOR NOT FORESEEING THE POTENTIALITY FOR PITCH FEELINGS, i HAVE KNOWN EQUIUS FOR A LONG TIME, eVEN IF WE WERE NEVER CLOSE, uM, bUT I REALLY THOUGHT HE HAD GOTTEN A HANDLE ON HIS TEMPER,  
AT: wELL, tHAT IS A LITTLE UNFAIR OF ME TO SAY,,,hE DOES HAVE A HANDLE ON IT, aND TO SAY OTHERWISE IS A DISSERVICE BECAUSE HE ALWAYS WORKED REALLY HARD ON THAT WITH NEPETA, aND ACTUALLY, i DON’T THINK ANYONE COULD HAVE PICKED THAT DIRK WOULD TRY AND, uH, fLIRT, aND EXACERBATE THE SITUATION,  
TG: flirt?  
TG: did the captain take it that way too?  
TG: did dirkie even know he was doin it????  
TG: oh man did i miss my first unintentioned hateflirtage by a hume and a good chance to whip out alla my troll learnings?  
TG: also so i could tease dirk bc burrrrrn  
AT: hAHA, i GUESS YOU DID MISS OUT ON A CHANCE TO DO, bOTH OF THOSE THINGS, bECAUSE, uH, bY OUR STANDARDS, i WOULD CALL WHAT DIRK WAS DOING FLIRTING, pRETTY BLATANT PITCH FLIRTING AT THAT, aND, uH, eQUIUS HAS SPENT MOST OF HIS TIME ON TROLL SHIPS ONLY, tO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE, sO HE MAY BE RESPONDING INSTINCTIVELY AND NOT COGNITIVELY,  
AT: aND NOT, wITH THE USUAL THOUGHT AND CARE THAT HE PUTS INTO ACTIONS FROM THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE OF HIM AND HIS CHARACTER, hE HAS HAD VERY LITTLE TO DO WITH HUMANS OVERALL, nOT WITHSTANDING THE FLUSH ROMANCE HE IS NOW INVOLVED IN WITH JANE,  
AT: i WANT TO STEP IN AS TEMPORARY AUSPITICE BUT UM, i’M NOT SURE IF EITHER OF THEM WILL LISTEN TO ME, eQUIUS HAS,,,tRADITIONAL BELIEFS REGARDING THE HEMOSPECTRUM, aND ALTHOUGH A LOWER RANKED TROLL IS CONSIDERED MORE SUITED FOR CONCILIATION DUE TO OUR USUALLY MORE STABLE NATURES, hE WILL PROBABLY THINK THAT I AM A LITTLE FAR DOWN FROM HIS BLOOD COLOUR FOR HIM TO CONSIDER ME AS A MIDDLE LEAF FOR HIS CLUB,  
AT: sO HE PROBABLY WON’T WANT TO DO WHAT I TELL HIM TO DO, wHICH IF I AM HIS MIDDLE LEAF, hE WOULD NEED TO DO THAT, aND UH, fOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN A PROPER ASHEN BALANCE BETWEEN HIM AND DIRK, INSTEAD OF THE SITUATION TIPPING OVER INTO PROPER CALIGINOUS ROMANCE, WHICH WOULD BE MY ROLE TO STOP IT DOING SO,,,  
TG: oh man  
TG: uh  
TG: thats  
TG: troll racism sure is weird, esp when u mix it with ur romancing  
TG: does this kind of stuff come into play a lot?  
AT: i THINK, tHAT AS THE BENEFICE’S REFORMS PROGRESS, iT WILL GET BETTER, iT’S ALREADY BETTER IN MANY WAYS, i BELIEVE THAT AS A MEMBER OF ONE OF THE LOWEST SHADES ON THE HEMOSPECTRUM, tHAT I CAN SAY THAT WITH SOME CONFIDENCE,  
AT: dIRK WILL PROBABLY DISCOUNT THE NEED FOR AN AUSPITICE ENTIRELY, i THINK, mAINLY DUE TO THE FACT THAT AS HE IS HUMAN AND UNUSED TO THE FEELINGS OF PASSIONATE LOATHING THAT ACCOMPANY A KISMESISSITUDE,,,aND HE IS NOT ALWAYS THE BEST AT ARTICULATING HIS FEELINGS FROM MY ADMITTEDLY LIMITED EXPERIENCE, aND UH, hE WILL PROBABLY WISH TO PASS THIS OFF AS SOMETHING ELSE BUT IN THAT CASE HE NEEDS TO LEAVE EQUIUS ALONE,  
AT: aND DEFINITELY NOT FLIRT ANYMORE,,,  
AT: eQUIUS HAS ALREADY ASKED ME NOT TO BRING DIRK TO ANY FOLLOW UP APPOINTMENTS, sO UH, i WAS KIND OF HOPING TO TALK TO YOU ANYWAY BEFORE YOU MESSAGED ME, aND ASK IF YOU COULD DO IT AND ACCOMPANY ME INSTEAD,  
AT: i DON’T KNOW WHO ELSE TO ASK TO ASSIST, aND UH, i REALLY DON’T WANT TO LET DIRK SPEND MORE TIME WITH EQUIUS,,,nOT RIGHT NOW,  
TG: sure i can take you to ur appointments tavros  
TG: lemme know when the enxt one is  
AT: tHANK YOU, rOXY, i KNOW THAT YOU’RE BUSY,  
TG: no problemio dudelio  
TG: but u kno prob be a good idea to get dirkie to see what capn zahhak is doing close up  
TG: pick his no doubt huge lobed brain  
TG: so we handle any other repairs in house  
TG: properly the next time instead of stuffin it up liek we did  
TG: uh  
TG: u kno it just prob aint great that equius is the only one who knows how to fix u  
TG: thats just the impression im gettin here  
TG: what if something happens to him and u know then what for yuo  
TG: theres no redundancy in the system n thats never a good thing  
AT: }:(  
AT: i KNOW,,,  
AT: mAYBE IF I CAN GET THEM BOTH TO ACCEPT ME AS THEIR MIDDLE LEAF AND STOP THIS KISMESISSITUDE FROM GETTING TRULY CALIGINOUS, tHEN DIRK WILL BE ABLE TO WATCH EQUIUS WORK ON THE CIRCUITRY OF MY PROSTHESES AND LEARN FROM HIM ABOUT HOW TO UPKEEP THEM AS WELL,  
AT: i THINK EQUIUS HAS PLANS FOR A LITTLE SURGERY AS WELL,,,uM, i THINK I WOULD LIKE IT IF SOMEONE ELSE COULD BE WATCHING WHILE I'M BEING OPERATED ON,,,jUST IN A KIND OF SUPERVISORY WAY,  
TG: :O!!!!  
TG: surgery???? what kinda surgery?  
TG: i am suddenly totes concerned  
AT: hE'S MENTIONED A MINOR BIOGRUB INSERTION, iT'S NOT REALLY A BIG DEAL, rOXY, tHIS IS A PRETTY NORMAL SURGEOHORRICAL PROCEDURE FOR TROLLS AND HE SAID THAT THE NEW NEUROCONNECTIONS MIGHT EVEN,,,uH,  
AT: wELL,,,i MIGHT HAVE MORE SENSATION BELOW THE WAIST IN MY PROSTHESES, aND I CAN'T NOT TRY IT IF HE SAYS THAT,  
AT: i WOULD,,,rEALLY LIKE THAT, iF HE CAN DO IT, hE IS VERY GOOD AT WHAT HE DOES, aND UM, i KNOW HE'S PROBABLY USING ME AS AN EXPERIMENTAL SUBJECT TO PROVE SOMETHING FOR SOME OTHER PROJECT BUT IF IT WORKS, i DON'T THINK I WILL MIND VERY MUCH,  
TG: so u might be a lab rat but u arent sure if u are or not  
TG: that sounds so wrong bb  
TG: :((((  
TG: p much the epititome of unethical in fact  
AT: hE PROBABLY DOESN'T THINK HE NEEDS TO DISCUSS IT WITH ME, dUE TO THE DIFFERENCE IN OUR BLOODCOLOUR AND UM, bESIDES, iT WOULD BE FOR THE GREATER GOOD OF ALTERNIA, hE WOULDN'T DO IT FOR JUST IDLE INTEREST,  
AT: uM, i'M PRETTY SURE AT LEAST,  
AT: i THINK HE WOULDN'T, bECAUSE IT'S PROBABLY AGAINST THE CODE OF NOBLE BEHAVIOUR HE BELIEVES HE ADHERES TO AS A BLUEBLOOD, aND ONE OF THOSE THINGS THAT MAKE HIM BETTER THAN OTHER BLOOD TYPES, sO JUST TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT BECAUSE HE COULD AND HE WAS CURIOUS, hE WOULDN'T DO THAT, iT WOULD NEED TO BE DONE FOR A LEGITIMATE REASON THAT WOULD BE OF BENEFIT TO THE GREATER GOOD IN SOME WAY,  
TG: ok first off  
TG: ewww bc that is gross as fuck  
TG: n second r u rly sure u ok with all of this???  
TG: bc it sound like a nasty kinda sitch  
AT: i KNOW I AM MAKING IT SOUND LIKE EQUIUS IS A BAD PERSON,,,aND HE KIND OF IS, bUT UM, nOT THAT BAD, nOT AS BAD AS HE COULD BE, aT LEAST, i THINK THAT IS WHAT I MEAN,  
AT: i'VE, uHHH, i'VE MET WORSE AND HE DIDN'T NEED TO HELP ME THE WAY HE DID, bUT UM, hE REALLY DID ASSIST ME WITH ENSURING I GOT THE PERMISSIONS I NEEDED TO GET HIM ON SHIP TO REPAIR MY PROSTHESES,,,  
AT: eVEN IF HE ALSO KIND OF MADE MEAN COMMENTS ABOUT MY BLOOD AT THE SAME TIME AS HE WAS HELPING ME,,,  
TG: i dont think i cn consider that a glowin endorsement of the guy but ok  
TG: highbloods amirite?  
AT: hAHAHA,  
AT: }:D  
AT: yES, i THINK THAT THAT IS A GOOD SUMMATION OF THE ENTIRE SITUATION, aND UM, tHE PROBLEMATIC PERSONALITY AND CHARACTER TRAITS OF MANY HIGHBLOODS IN GENERAL, aND NOT JUST EQUIUS,  
AT: bUT HE HONESTLY IS VERY GOOD AT WHAT HE DOES, aND I DO THINK THAT IN THE END, uM, hIS GOAL IS TO CREATE BETTER MECHANISMS AND IMPROVE HIS WORK AND UNDERSTANDING, aND I CAN APPRECIATE THAT EVEN IF THE BENEFIT TO ME ON A PERSONAL LEVEL IS INCIDENTAL AND NOT ACTUALLY MEANT FOR ME,  
AT: i CAN'T REALLY COMPLAIN ABOUT IT IF IN THE LONG RUN IT MEANS THAT I CAN WALK BETTER AND UM, hE'S PART OF THE REASON I WASN'T CULLED BEFORE FEFERI'S ASCENSION TO THE THRONE, sO, mAYBE I SHOULDN'T REALLY COMPLAIN ABOUT HIM TOO MUCH,  
TG: uh no  
TG: some of what youve said maeks this guy sound a like a bonafide creepazoid  
TG: i think if u want to complain about him, go right ahead dude  
AT: i MIGHT, wHILE HE'S ON SHIP, i'M SURE HE'LL DO SOMETHING, uH,,,tHAT I THINK IS WORTH COMPLAINING ABOUT TO YOU, sO THANK YOU FOR THAT OFFER,  
TG: well i got to admit youve given me a lot to think about  
TG: not sure i understand auspisticing yet but um  
TG: im glad we had this talk neway! :D  
AT: i SUPPOSE I DIDN'T EXPLAIN THAT VERY WELL AND GOT DISTRACTED, uM, tALKING ABOUT HEMOCASTE POLITICS, eVEN THOUGH EXPLAINING THE ASHEN QUADRANT AND MY POTENTIAL ROLE AS A MIDDLE LEAF OF A CLUB INVOLVING ONE OF YOUR CLADE WAS THE REASON YOU WERE TALKING TO ME, uH, aT ALL,,, sORRY,  
AT: }:(  
TG: no boi it cool, dont even, steven  
TG: its always real fucking interestin talking to u, nitram  
TG: maybe ill come by sometime and well talk abt this ashen romance thing some moar  
TG: i mean ive watched a whole lotta movies in my heroic ass quest for cultural understandings  
TG: you trolols got movies oozing outta yr auricular sponges  
TG: but maybe we can watch uno and u can explain it to me, the fifty shades of gray that im not seeing cos it cultural and im just a poor humie who doesnt understand the beauties of troll romance  
AT: wELL, i GUESS THAT SOUNDS LIKE IT COULD BE CONSIDERED PART OF MY CULTURAL DUTIES IN MY POSITION AS ALTERNIAN AMBASSADOR, aND UM, aLSO SOUNDS LIKE IT COULD BE FUN, aLTHOUGH REALLY, mAYBE YOU SHOULD ASK KARKAT THE NEXT TIME HE'S ON THE FLAGSHIP,  
AT: hE KNOWS MORE ABOUT ROMANCE THAN ME, aND HE MIGHT BE ABLE TO EXPLAIN IT BETTER, sINCE IT IS ONE OF HIS AREAS OF INTEREST,  
TG: lmao yeah i might but i still want ur viewpoint, tavros, i asked u specifititty  
TG: *specifically  
TG: lemme know when is a good time for u for a movie night  
TG: and when u need me for yr check ups etc ill see what i can work in  
AT: oK, i GUESS I CAN DO THAT, aND UM, tHANK YOU AGAIN FOR SAYING YOU WOULD GO WITH ME, tHAT IS A VERY KIND THING FOR YOU TO DO,  
TG: psssh! not even an itty bitty nanobit of a problem  
TG: u just let me know ok?  
AT: aLRIGHT, wELL, tHAT SOUNDS GOOD, tHANKS AGAIN, rOXY,  
TG: no thank u! as always, u a great help, mister amabasassador  
TG: ttfn!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT]


	22. Chapter 22

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

AC :33 < *the furocious purrbeast sprawls invitingly on a rock near the edge of the beach*  
AC :33 < *she licks a paw, awaiting the arrival of the seagoat, because it is his beach of course!*  
AC :33 < *she wonders if purrhaps he will join her*  
TC: aw man  
TC: NOW I’M JUST KINDA THINKING OF YOU ALL LOOSE LIMBED AND MOTHERFUCKING GORGEOUS  
TC: laying out on a platform with that bitchtits fucking grin you do motherfucking get wrapped up on your maw  
TC: AIN’T SURE IF I CAN PLAY THE GAME UNDER THESE SORT OF MOTHERFUCKING CONDITIONS  
TC: shit be unfuckingfair  
AC :33 < h33h33!  
AC :33 < well, that wasnt my intention  
AC :33 < ok, no role purrlay tonight if im soooo distracting!  
TC: MY SWEETEST MOTHERFUCKING FLUSHCRUSH  
TC: you are a distraction to my fucking thoughts and a maze in my motherfucking pan  
TC: AIN’T A THING I’D RATHER MOTHERFUCKING THINK ON THAN YOU  
TC: in all your bitchtits motherfucking glory  
TC: ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE ALL OUT IN YOUR WICKED FUCKING HIDE AND NOT A STITCH OF DECENCY COVER TO BE SEEN  
AC :33 < ooooh, meowster makara, oooh  
AC :33 < unfurtunately purr mew, alas, i am not without decency coverings  
TC: aw, what a motherfucking disappointment  
TC: :o(  
AC :33 < im wearin my unifurm, beclaws of course, im actually supawsed to be on duty  
AC :33 < im just tucked into a hatch while my purrtroll leader is macking on her spade, purrtending i dont s33 shit  
AC :33 < so you s33, im not even really the purrblem here  
TC: I DON'T KNOW KITTYBITCH, YOU STILL LOOK PRETTY GOOD IN YOUR MOTHERFUCKING UNIFORM  
AC :33 < h33h33! why, thank mew  
TC: nice fucking rump you got and that tight little securihunter coverall sure do show it off motherfucking proper  
TC: MESSIAHS FUCKING BLESS THE MOTHERGRUB FOR GIVING YOU AN ASS LIKE THAT  
TC: a wicked brother most motherfucking certainly do  
AC :33 < someones f33ling furrisky!  
AC :33 < but we purrbably dont have time fur that right now, and i purrmise i will make it up to you at a later date, gamz33  
AC :33 < in purson! much meow furfilling than role purrlay, even if thats purrty fun too  
AC :33 < i messaged you fur a reason  
AC :33 < we might have a purrblem, with our plans to see our two diamonds hooked up in a caliginous romance  
AC :33 < i think equihiss is waxing pitch for a human on the earthian flagship!  
AC :33 < so i n33d to get him out of there  
AC :33 < although i did hear that tavros is f33ling pretty ashen about the whole thing so purrhaps its not as urgent as i make it s33m  
TC: OH YEAH, I ALMOST FORGOT THAT THAT SWEETHORNED MOTHERFUCKER WAS THERE  
AC :33 < pffff! as if you did  
TC: aw c'mon now, that shit's old motherfucking news  
AC :33 < i know! im just teasing! :33c  
AC :33 < and he does have a nice set of horns, nobody could deny that  
AC :33 < but anyway back to the sudden appurrance of an unexpected squall in the middle of my shipping charts!  
AC :33 < i think we n33d to remind them how much they hate each ofur  
AC :33 < also i miss you, i want to see you fur a bit longer fur once  
AC :33 < i was thinking that meowbe its time to come clean anyway  
TC: HAS BEEN KINDA FUN THOUGH, KEEPING SHIT ON THE DOWN LOW  
TC: sneaking around and stealing kisses  
TC: SHIT HAS BEEN A FUN LITTLE MOTHERFUCKING GAME  
TC: but yeah, i'd be glad not to be making lies in my chirpbox at my palebro about my flush no more  
TC: WEARS ON A MOTHERFUCKER'S PUSHER A LITTLE  
AC :33 < yeah, i agr33  
AC :33 < but i wanna s33 both their faces when they both find out at the same time  
AC :33 < purrty sure itll just make them hate each more!  
AC :33 < if we purrlay it right  
TC: between the two of us, my sweet little meowmacita, i bet we can  
TC: AIN'T NO MOTHERFUCKER WHO KNOWS A TROLL'S BUTTONS BETTER THAN HIS MOIRAIL, YOU KNOW  
AC :33 < furry good point!  
AC :33 < theres one thing i know has to happen befur he comes back to the dire absolutism  
AC :33 < but it defurinately will  
AC :33 < and then, well!  
AC :33 < why shouldnt a kismesis get a better sniff of his spades new heart?  
TC: you know, i think that might even work as an excuse  
TC: AIN'T ONE SINGLE MOTHERFUCKER WHO EXPECTS ME TO MAKE MUCH FUCKING SENSE AT THE BEST OF TIMES  
TC: and the scriptures do preach on the need to keep quadrants solid and tight  
AC :33 < and then you can come s33 me!  
AC :33 < furry impawtent errand, not negotiable in any way  
AC :33 < s33 matesprit and pail her silly  
TC: WELL FUCK, THAT SURE DOES SOUND LIKE A FUCKING THING A RIGHTEOUS MOTHERFUCKER SHOULD MAKE SURE TO DO  
TC: wouldn't want to fucking disappoint a wicked kittybitch by not doing a bitchtits motherfucking job of pailing her proper  
AC :33 < oh i cant get distracted like this  
AC :33 < why why why am i meant to be on purrtroll?  
AC :33 < now im thinking about it  
TC: WHAT, MY BULGE IN YOUR TIGHT MOTHERFUCKING NOOK AND YOURS ALL SWEET AND SLICK IN MINE, KITTYBITCH?  
AC :PP < you shush  
AC :33 < i cant be going around r33king of pailing pheromones  
AC :33 < i have to purrtend im a little purrfessional  
TC: honk :o)  
TC: NOW WHO'S MOTHERFUCKING DISTRACTED, HUH?  
TC: i'll think on how to nudge my palebro up and to setting course for the dire absolutism once bluebro leaves the valentina  
TC: AND YOU SEE ABOUT KEEPING YOUR DIAMOND'S BLACK QUADRANT HUMAN FREE  
TC: i gotta tell you, nepsis, jane is one tough motherfucking badass bitch and i still gotta pull a punch sometimes  
TC: I DON'T KNOW IF BLUEBRO WOULD DO SO GOOD EVEN IF IT WAS A TRUE AND PROPER HATELOATHING  
AC :33 < uuurgh i know i know  
AC :33 < this was so not what i planned!  
AC :33 < s33 this is what happens when i let him out of my sight  
TC: don't pout, leijon, that is ill becoming of a tough motherfucking huntress like yourself  
AC :33 < bluh! hes my meowrail, ill pout if i want to  
AC :(( < and i miss him  
TC: WE'RE SOME LUCKY ASS BLESSED MOTHERFUCKERS ABLE TO KEEP OUR PALEMATES SO CLOSE AND ALL ON THE REGULAR  
TC: not everyone gets a blessed touch from the Messiahs and can do so like we can  
AC :33 < i know i know  
AC :33 < this still sucks though  
TC: YOU LET ME KNOW ON YOUR DIAMOND'S HIVE COMING  
TC: and i will make motherfucking arrangements on my end  
TC: STILL WANT TO SEE MY FUCKING HATEBITCH TOO BUT I GUESS I'LL PUT A WAIT ON THAT  
AC :33 < pawnestly she s33ms furry nice  
TC: oh no not you fucking too  
TC: NO SHE AIN'T SO FUCKING NICE, SHE'S A MISERABLE GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCKING HARPY  
TC: and she gets in people's fucking heads so they think she's nice and with all these motherfucking baked goods she gives out  
TC: THAT'S HOW SHE MOTHERFUCKING GETS YOU  
TC: some form of motherfucking mind control, that's what is  
TC: TAKING OVER THE MOTHERFUCKING UNIVERSE THROUGH SWEET FUCKING TREATS AND HEINOUS MOTHERFUCKING BLASPHEMY  
AC :33 < im really so purrleased you found someone you hate so much  
AC :33 < i pawnestly am!  
AC :33 < but bring it down a notch, ok?  
TC: sorry kittysis  
TC: SHE JUST REALLY SETS A BLACK FUCKING FIRE IN MY MOTHERFUCKING PUSHER  
TC: when you find a troll you feel all motherfucking pitch over and those spades show up in your ocular sockets  
TC: YOU'LL MOTHERFUCKING UNDERSTAND JUST WHAT I MEAN  
AC :33 < boo  
AC :33 < well purrbably i would if i did, but im not furry interested in getting a kismehiss!  
AC :33 < not purrmenantly, i mean, for drone season a little black fling is fine  
TC: i think you should motherfucking cogitate about it, my wicked little flushcrush  
TC: SOMEONE ON YOUR ACTUAL FUCKING SHIP  
TC: who you can see more motherfucking often than me  
AC :PP < i mew EXACTLY what i was getting into gamz33 makara and i dont regret anything!  
AC :33 < flushed for you  
TC: FLUSHED AS MOTHERFUCKING RED AS ANY HEART YOU EVER DID SEE FOR YOU TOO  
AC :33 < <3!!!!!  
TC: <3  
TC: :o)  
AC :33 < whoops looks like the spades flirt is done with, shes wiping the blood off her mouth and looks pissed  
AC :33 < purrbably didnt go quite as well as she hoped which is gonna mean shes in a shitty mood  
AC :33 < i guess that means my goldbricking is over  
TC: i'll see you soon babycakes  
TC: I AM AIMING TO GET MY GRASPERS ALL OVER YOUR SWEET MOTHERFUCKING ASS  
AC :33 < not if i get mine on yours furst!  
TC: make it a motherfucking competition  
TC: BUT I HAVE TO TELL YOU MY FLUSHEST LITTLE KITTYBITCH  
TC: your ass is mine  
AC :33 < the mighty huntress begs to diffur!  
AC :33 < when it comes to a surprise pounce from concealment, she can not be beaten!!!  
AC :33 < the furocious purrbeast suggests that the lecherous seagoat to consider that it will be his ass that is furfeit instead  
TC: WE WILL MOTHERFUCKING SEE  
AC :33 < i think we will!  
AC :33 < and i think you will find that the one who winds up on his ass will not be me  
TC: bet your bitchtits motherfucking nook on it?  
AC :33 < if youre willing to bet yours  
TC: WELL THEN I THINK WE HAVE A MOTHERFUCKING AGREEMENT, NEPETA LEIJON  
AC :33 < id say may the best troll win  
AC :33 < but we both know that that would mean of course, that it is going to be me, grand highblood  
AC :33 < and i supurrse i should purrtend you have a chance  
TC: motherfucking bold statement from a little motherfucking kittybitch  
AC :33 < well if you want my nook, gamz33 makara  
AC :33 < you better hope that my meowrail fixes up his work and hurries hive  
TC: MOTHERFUCKING LITTLE MINX  
AC :33 < h33h33! the seagoat cant purrtend he doesnt like a good game of hide and go s33k as much as the magnificent purrbeast  
AC :33 < whoops i better go  
AC :33 < ill message you soon  
TC: i hope your moirail gets shit fixed quick  
TC: I FIND MYSELF MOTHERFUCKING IMPATIENT  
AC :33 < <3  
TC: <3

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, there's actually a big meaty hunk of a chapter coming, not just pesterlogs. Thanks to everyone who's left kudoes or a comment, they honestly give me fucking life, you have no idea.


	23. Chapter 23

After the... _upsetting incident_ in your workshop, you have told Nitram that he is not to bring the human he had had with him the first time as an escort ever again. You have no plans to interact with him anymore. It is not necessary. You’d gotten a few worried ums and uhs from the brown blood along with a small amount of argument, but he had submitted in the end when you pushed the issue STRONGLY. More or less, for a certain value of submission. In a way that you found made you feel uneasy for some reason you find hard to clarify, but you will persevere. Your moirail agrees, after all – best not to come in further, prolonged contact with the Dirk human. You don’t even know what his rank is because he hadn't bothered to wear any sort of insignia or rank marker, and his skin is _so off putting_ , so pale. Almost exactly like a lusus. Or a rainbowdrinker, perhaps, although you are almost certain that those are only legend.

_The sharp angle of his jaw, the fine bone of his wrist..._

Shaking your head briskly to dispel the errant thought from your thinkpan like a hoofbeast shooing away a flying stingcritter, you scrawl schematics onto your information slate, lifting and pulling pieces from one part of the prosthetic plan to another, doodling little ideas. You _had_ had plans, but they hadn’t prevailed against the mess you’d found inside the casing of Nitram’s legs, where all your efficient, calculated workings had been sabotaged. Perhaps some might think that sabotage was a strong word, but you don’t feel as though it is too strong to describe exactly how you feel about the matter. You have so much planning to do before you are ready to embark on fixing what has been broken, you’re still analysing the diagnostics and the legs are spread out in pieces across your workbench, barely one thing connected to the other anymore. You’re currently removing every addition you can find, and there are far too many of them.

You are building a small pile of orange wires and you’re planning to set fire to it if you can find a way to do so without setting off any alarms.

Dumping it down an obliterifierchute just wouldn’t be quite fiddlesticking fulfilling enough. 

No, what you feel is not caliginous in any way and you would deny it utterly if called on it. Because it is not true. You do not feel any sort of caliginous sentiment for the Dirk-human, and to say otherwise is pure nonsense. Ludicrous, in fact. You are harbouring no lingering pitch feelings for _anybody_ , human or troll, either on ship or off, despite Nepeta's sly hintings around the topic of the detestable Vantas. _It is all very **platonic** loathing_ , and well deserved towards both targets. 

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering centaursTesticle [CT] 

GG: Captain Zahhak of the Enginihilator Corps, esteemed officer of the Alternian Empire!  
GG: The Fleet Admiral will be pleased to see you in her quarters at 20:00 hours, full dress uniform required.  
GG: You will find appropriate attire in your respiteblock.  
GG: I would advise not being late.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering centaursTesticle [CT] 

You’re in the middle of tapping your finger against the side of your shades as sky blue text appears on the inside of the lenses, and you feel a shiver race down your back. Was this what you had been worried about occurring, at last? Was she angry, has Jane heard about what had happened between yourself and Dirk, the way you’d lost control? Wait, no, she had said she would be pleased to see you in her quarters at 20:00 hours. That didn’t sound, you don’t think she would have said _pleased_ to see you if she had been angry about what had happened. Maybe she just doesn’t know yet, you haven’t seen each other face to face since that almost idyllic afternoon together. 

You don’t think you want to bring up Dirk in case she hasn’t heard about it yet; besides, she signed off almost immediately, you’d had no chance to reply. Besides, it’s nothing, really. It’s nothing. _It is nothing_.

Using your access to the human communications web, you find out what 20:00 means, and when that is in reference to the time it is now. You’re surprised to find that you’ve managed to pass the dinner hour, shining robot parts spread out across the bench in front of you. The janiterrorists have cleaned up the mess you’d made a few days before, and you haven’t had a chance to see Jane – both of you have duties that pull you in different directions. That’s not to say that you haven’t spoken, you’ve spent some time with Nepeta alternately scolding and supporting you over Trollian as best she can manage, and also chatting with Jane over the same format in the moments both of you can snatch. But this. This is a direct order. You can’t disobey a direct order – not that you would want to disobey this one, but it does make you feel a little easier in your conscience about putting your work to one side.

Ordering food to your workspace and setting yourself an alarm that will allow you time to go to your respiteblock to undergo ablutions and then change into the uniform she’s arranged for you to wear, and then to go to her quarters in plenty of time. The meal again is more of the amazing vegetation that comes from the human oxygen generators, and you stuff your mouth with a fork in one hand in a disgraceful show of bad manners while the other, unencumbered, races over your information slate. Honestly, you should care about it but for the moment, you’re alone and you’re. You have so much to do, and you feel like you are finally on some line of work that is going to resolve all your problems. You’re near to finishing when your alarm goes off, and irritably, you slap it away, flick it off the screen of your information slate, and go back to work. The second alarm goes off louder a little later closer to your deadline, more piercing and demanding, and this time, you get up from your work and go to your respite block. 

You don’t want to be late. You have your orders.

You’re not quite running but you are moving at a brisk pace as you move through the corridors of the ship as you head to her quarters, still dependent on the information slate to guide you there. Trotting, perhaps, would be the best way to describe your pace, but it definitely hasn't reached the point of a gallop or even a canter. Outside her door, you take a breath to calm yourself and give yourself a chance to not be puffing (you are not, you're in excellent physical condition), and then press the vocopad receiver by the door so you can announce your arrival, the door opening in moments after and you step inside, wondering what exactly Jane has planned, and why you needed to wear a formal uniform for it. You have to wonder where she got it from; if you didn’t know it was practically impossible, you would have sworn it was one of yours.

Stepping into her quarters, you’re surprised to see another human with her, both of them in full uniform. Your eyes flick to Jane as she smiles at you and you bow slightly, clenched fist over your pusher in proper Imperial courtesy, noting the rank patch on the new human’s shoulder, the pink tips to her white hair around her sharp-featured face, the bright smile against the tan of her skin. Higher than you, lower than Jane. Is this some sort of disciplinary meeting for what happened with the Dirk human? But no, Jane is smiling? And she seems relaxed, and you doubt she would be if this was something disciplinary. 

“Captain Zahhak! I’m so very pleased to meet you – I’m Roxy Lalonde.” Her smile reminds you of a cardinal brushbeast in a cluckbeast house, toothy and white and somehow pleased with herself, and you don't know why you're the focus of a smile like that. You're unsettled by it, but you swallow that feeling down and take her hand when she extends it, careful as always to restrain your strength. Her almost bright pink eyes seem to look straight through you, and you really didn't know that human eyes came in that kind of colour. It's quite striking, the effect of the bright colour against the smooth tan of her skin. Again, that soft brown, although a lighter shade than Jane's. Those fine, fine hairs along the back of her hands and up her arms, barely noticeable. Human skin always looked so warm and soft in contrast to troll, and you notice it again as her fingers wrap around yours in a brief clasp and shake, before you mutually release. "Jane's one of my very good friends, and I'm sure we're gonna get on just _grrrrrreat_!"

"I would also like to believe that we will be able to interact amicably on a social level," you answer her, feeling a little put off by the smile and the sheer amount of (almost forced?) pleasure she put into her statement. The rolled R in her adjective to describe your meeting seems a little unnecessarily aggressive, although you're not quite sure you could say why. Humans don't...they don't growl, as far as you're aware. Not like a troll would, but that had been rather unsettlingly close. "I'm always pleased to meet more of," your eyes flicker to Jane briefly, wondering if you should be so daring as to use her name instead of her rank and recklessly decide to do so, since this Roxy is being so informal and sort of setting the tone for the interaction, "Jane's friends. I am certain that the pleasure is mine."

"Oh, it is definitely your pleasure, Captain, but I think we're gonna be cool." She smiles again, and your eyes slide back to Jane momentarily, but she doesn't seem at all alarmed. Just smiles, as though this is normal, and you make your shoulders relax, taking your cue from her. If she thinks it is fine, then it's fine. You don't know humans well enough to disagree with her assessment of the situation...and she seems friendly. She is smiling, you suppose. Smiles are supposed to be a sign of friendliness, or at least a willingness to be civil. "Alrighty, so, should we get this flitter into the sky? Let's bounce, yeah?"

"Oh yes, absolutely, Roxy my dear! You've spoken quite to my heart on the matter." Jane's smile broadens, and she gestures to you to come join her by her side, and you do so, still curious, the objective of this evening still not quite clarified for you. "Screen on!" she says sharply with a throwing gesture forward with her hand, and the wall in front of the three of you changes translucence, from solid slate grey to something limpid, filling with light, and then a picture begins to clarify on it. You've seen intergalactic transible viewscreens in action before, but you have never really had occasion to use one personally (Jane has one in her private quarters? You suppose that makes sense, really). You had the clearance if you truly needed it, but Captor and yourself usually manage with the written format of Trollian and email to collaborate in an adequate enough fashion, and who else would you speak to that you could justify that sort of pure energy waste? Especially considering the lamentable state of affairs across the Alternian naval forces, with absolutely no back up psionics whatsoever. It would be irresponsible to do so when the instant messaging systems are so much less of an energy drain. "Nepeta, are you there? How's the lag on your end?"

"Oh, I think I'll notice it but I don't know about you humans, it's only about a second or so," comes the upbeat voice of your moirail as she swims into focus, and you just _stare_. "Nice to see you fur real, Jane! You look a pawful lot like your pictures...but shorter than I thought! Or meowbe that's just because you're standing next to Equihiss. Efurryone looks a little short standing next to him!"

You know exactly how expensive a complete sight and sound second-to-second transible link across galaxies can be, it is absolutely ludicrous in terms of energy consumption, and you are almost horrified; or you would be if you weren't busy drinking in the sight of Nepeta (also in formal uniform?), sitting in front of a commdesk of the Dire Absolutism, her hands clasped in front of her and almost primly at attention. Your gaze touches on her horns and you notice they're looking a little rough, your hand twitches a little, wanting to touch her, groom her, even though you are well aware of the vastness of space between the two of you and she leans forward, smiling, as if she can still read your mind from such an immeasurable distance. So, this must actually _be_ your formal uniform then, if your moirail is in cahoots with Jane, sent via transmaterializer. No wonder it had fit so well.

//Equius!// It's rude perhaps to speak in your own language on a human ship, but hearing her say your name in Alternian makes your shoulders relax even further than just seeing her had done, the tone and raspy chirrup of her voice sounding of hive and comfort. It soothes you, and you're constantly a little on edge here on the flagship just from being alone and surrounded by unfamiliar things, by aliens. There is a lot you can forget in your work, but everything here is just ever so slightly _wrong_ , and there's nothing that can be done to fix that. It just rasps across the very edges of your nerves, and you don't want to leave Jane but at the same time, you are eager to return to the Dire Absolutism, your research, your respiteblock and most importantly, your moirail. After all, it's a moirail that makes a hive. //Pale fur mew.//

//Pale for you too,// you return as the two humans look aside for a moment to give you this, and she lifts her hand with two outstretched fingers spread and you return the gesture with your own, completing the diamond hand sign of moirallegiance across galaxies of stars as best you can. Something in your chest _aches_ , and you push it aside as the two of you drop your hands almost in unison and turn your attention to your company. It would absolutely be rude to take longer than that with your moirail in a personal moment in other company, even if you feel like you have gone so long without her already. You are selfish. You will be able to see her again every night very soon; other trolls do not have the luck you do.

"Well, shall we get this mad carnival quite on the road, then, now all participants are here?" Jane asks, and you spread your hands apart a little to indicate your polite confusion as to what exactly you are participating in, as you raise your eyebrow at her slightly. The sly grin she throws you makes your pusher flutter, and her smile only becomes wider and more pleased with herself. She looks so very STRONG in her uniform as well, quite the commanding presence. It makes your knees a little weak, you could kneel now and not feel awkward in the slightest if you didn't have the company you did but you manage to maintain your poise. It does...take a certain something, you admit. "You might have been a bit distracted lately with your urgent project, Captain Zahhak, and not paying attention to your calendar. But I have!" Nepeta laughs merrily, and you are very well aware that it's at you. But she sounds so pleased that you couldn't be mad if you tried, so you just sigh. You're more than used to being laughed at by your moirail, after all, she does it quite a lot and mostly because she thinks that you take yourself too seriously. She's probably right. "And we've passed the point of time, Captain, where if we so wish to make our matespritship official, then we can."

" _Oh_." Is it? It must be, time has passed so much more quickly than you could have thought it would. You've been busy, but you suppose that it has been...well. More than a few tens of cycles since you met Jane on this ship as part of the anniversary celebrations of the alliance between your two species. It does not seem long at all. And you are gladder than you can say that you have been able to do this in person, and with your moirail as close to as in person as she can manage. Jane must have set this up, and it is so. You feel so. You do not have the words.

"I assume you still want to."

As if you would not. As if there was any question. She seems to be waiting for you, and you gape for a moment at the fact that she feels the need to ask, before the words rush out of your mouth.

"Oh yes, Jane. Very much so. Nothing would please me more. I would be honoured beyond what words could possibly say." You're aware that there are observers to your actions, but when Jane looks at you that way, you can't help looking back at her much the same. You believe the term Nepeta would use is 'twitterpated'. The act of formalizing your mutual matespritship for pail exemption itself isn't much, you press thumbprint to screen and Jane does as well, and then Roxy Lalonde and Nepeta do the same, attesting that the flushed relationship between the two of you seems to them to be based on true pity and that they see no reason why it should not be affirmed by the Empress and your exemption to contributing a flushed pail at collection time accepted. Probably there used to be more ritual, but if there is, if trolls once had it, you do not know it. This is all that Alternia has left under the rigorous pressures of constant military service, of an unending grinding hierarchy and an eternal drive to efficiency. 

Sentiment is not efficient.

"Mazel tov, you lovebirds," Roxy says in an upbeat tone as you and Jane hold hands, look at each other. Nepeta doesn't say anything, only grins and makes a heart shape with her hands as you look towards her, looking far too pleased with herself. That is a smile you've seen before, when she's managed to pull off a somewhat difficult piece of acrobatic movement in the middle of a hunt, culminating in a successful kill. It is a very satisfied smile. You...you believe you are going to insist on a very thorough feelings jam when you return to the Absolutism, but. If this is the outcome of whatever her meddling has been. Then. Then you think you do not care very much. It has turned out, in your opinion, at least, to be for the very best. You think Jane would agree, so you don't think that anyone else's opinions matter nearly so much compared to that. "So should we leave you two alone to celebrate?"

The way she wiggles her eyebrows is _filthy_ and you stutter, a small 'hkk!' choking sound of surprise the only thing that makes it out of your throat.

"Actually, could you? I mean, I was very pleased to patch Nepeta in to the signing of the exemption documents, but I should refrain from making myself more of a nuisance to the Admiral than I already have, and it wouldn't be fair to keep you from your work any longer, Roxy," Jane says brightly, and her hand tightens around yours. Warm, mostly soft but calloused at the edges. Her thumb rubs across the edge of your palm and almost imperceptibly, you tighten your fingers around hers in return. 

"Ha! That's not why you want to be aloooone..." The way the pink-eyed human drags the word out is somehow even more explicit than her facial expressions, and Nepeta is not helping, she is _laughing_. If you weren't simply awash with pale pity for her, you'd be annoyed but as it stands, you're well used to being treated like this. No one has any respect for your dignity. And at least most of the time, you're glad for it. At least if it is your moirail, other people don't have the same license she does to mock your public facade of stoicism. "Yikes, don't get up me, girl, I'm going! I'll let you _canoodle_ with your matesprit. Although I do think you mightta worn the new smell off him by now!"

Jane laughs a little and wags her finger scoldingly at her friend as you choke again, but thankfully that seems to be all the teasing that you are in for. At least about this, at this moment. Nepeta chirps a few more words of congratulations and reminding you to make sure that you're eating (embarrassing, even if humans didn't really have the pale quadrant, that was just so... _obviously_ pale), and makes you promise that you will not forget. Actually, you think you've been doing quite well on that front. It's assisted by the fact that everything here is so fresh, you've not had access to this kind of food that you find acceptable in terms of consumption in quite a while. In some ways, this has become almost a kind of. Vacation. And that is a terrible way to think about it, but you've seen your new matesprit, your flushcrush, almost every night, you have an interesting project to work on _but only one_ instead of a never ending stream coming down the pipe (and always with the Helmsman project looming over your horns like a juggernaut) (you can not forget, you have not forgotten, it is still waiting for you, at every moment without a solution, you continue to fail the Empire), the food is beyond excellent and if it wasn't for this Strider human, things would be almost enjoyable, even recreational.

"I think this would be an appropriate time to give you this," you say diffidently once Nepeta has logged off and Roxy has left, giving Jane one last high five before striding her way out of the door of your matesprit's ( _your matesprit_ ) quarters, trying not to seem too forward even despite the fact that you are now officially matesprits (pending one more approving bureaucratic thumbprint from the desk of the Empress but the important thing is that you have submitted the paperwork between the two of you and you _both_ have decided to regard each other so), and pull your present for her out of an inner pocket of your uniform. You have been working on it since you returned to the Dire Absolutism after the party where you'd met her, after the first text conversation where she had asked if you wanted to see this was a sustainable long term proposition of pity. You have rarely been so pleased that you have taken a risk, especially when it comes to your personal life. She is. Jane is. You pity her so much, and you are more certain now that she pities you equally. Otherwise, you are sure that neither of you would have reached this point. The present you've given her looks like a round black ball, easily cupped in the palm of her hand, quite small, really, but it is so much more than that. You're rather pleased with it, and you hope she realises how much work went into making it once she activates its internal mechanisms. She takes it from you with a puzzled frown, and you watch as she rolls your creation in her hands, cupping it. "You, um. It's activated by kissing," you murmur softly, feeling heat at the top of your ears.

"And how did you manage that, clever boy?" she says, and lifts the ball to her mouth, putting her lips on it. Kisses the smooth surface, and the trust she shows by doing that shivers your pusher with pity. There were so many poisons that could be transmitted like that. It would be so simple. You would _never_ , but the fact that she trusts you so much...it makes your chest ache.

"Heat - and hk, I had samples of your. Of your...hmm...genetic imprint?" You're not entirely sure of the translation into Earthian, but she chuckles and nods, seeming to understand. You try not to think of how you'd garnered the genetic material in question. You don't think you'll explain it to Jane. "So that you are the only one who can activate it." As you speak, the ball in her hands opens up. Reshapes itself into a cupped blossom shape, similar to an Earthian flora form called 'lotus'. You based the internal mechanisms controlling its transforming characteristics somewhat on the biowire flesh that you were currently studying in the Helmsman project but with more regimented programming, to ensure a rotation of three basic, geometrically based forms. You're sure that if you tackled the project again, you would make it more complex but as it stands, you think you have done quite well. Jane certainly seems enthralled as it 'blooms' in her palm. It was not really a very complex mechanism but it certainly looked complicated. The sensor for calibrating heat and detecting the correct genetic type had been more fascinating to tinker with, and you still hadn't been sure if it would work to trigger the metamorphosis correctly until she had kissed it. And it had. It's a flush of victory in your veins and made all the sweeter by the look on her face as the recording of your voice comes out of it. And thankfully, it's even one of the ones in Earthian, while you're sure that her Alternian is quite up to scratch, it must mean a little more in her own language.

_"Ask nothing more of me, sweet; All I can give you I give. Heart of my heart, were it more; more would be laid at your feet..."_

"It has a series of different poems, but I hope that -mm!" Kissing is something you are so ready to be used to, especially when it's Jane who's kissing you, and you melt into the warm approving kiss Jane lays on your mouth with pure pleasure. As the recording ends, the diminutive device closes up, rolling against her fingers in its small ball. You put your arm around her waist, holding her close as she admires it, rotating it so the slick surface catches the light, making it gleam. "I take it that you like it?"

"It's so clever, Equius! Also, rather smashingly adorable. I'm pretty much certain that I love it." 

"There's a series of poems on it, I hope that the ones in Earthian are...appropriate, I was not sure...the ones in Alternian are considered classics, for the flushed quadrant. I hope you enjoy the rest of them as well," you purr, and it is a purr, absolutely. You feel as though you have finally managed to give something to Jane, something worthwhile, _concrete_. You feel so _satisfied_ , the expression on her face is one you'll treasure and keep in mind during the cycles apart, until the two of you manage to claw out some personal time with each other again. You both have your duties, and hers are a fair sight more demanding than yours. Chats over Trollian are all well and good, but they're not the same as seeing each other face to face. Close enough to touch. And you so enjoy touching her, having her hands on you. "If you have got any personal favourites that I haven't recorded, I can probably add them to the memory chip easily, if you send the device through the transmitter to the Absolutism. Or if anything goes wrong, and you need me to repair it."

"How sturdy is it? It doesn't feel flimsy," she asks, putting the ball down on the table. It rolls a little and she steadies it, finding the slightly flat base so it can balance easily enough. "Just want to know if I need to be careful about dropping it."

"Um, fairly sturdy, most devices I make tend to be by necessity...just don't throw it. Dropping it short distances should be fine, but it might jog the memory chip out of alignment." Feeling more confident, you lean down again to kiss her mouth softly again. It's something you could lose nights and days in doing. You hope she enjoys the small toy in your absence, that it makes her think of you when you return to your own ship. Who knows how long it will be before you see each other again?

"You know, I think your behaviour has really been exemplary, quite tip top," Jane murmurs against your mouth, and her hands stroke up your back. Pressing creases, rumples, into the formal uniform you're wearing. "And I did say, if you were a good boy, then you would get a reward." She takes your hand and leads you into her respiteblock; you're curious, expectant as she releases your hand and turns to face you, heels coming together with a click as her bearing goes from relaxed to officious. Commanding. "Down on your knees, Enginihilator. Put your hands behind your back. You're in the control of the Human Federated Alliance now, and we will tolerate nothing but your complete surrender." You go down on your knees obediently, looking up as she puts her hands on her hips and _grins_ , teeth showing brightly in her smile and muscles of her arms pushing out against the crisp sleeves of her uniform. "When an Alternian ship is captured, I rarely show prisoners such personal attention, but I'm making an exception for you."

Your eyes widen a little behind your cracked shades. Oh. This is _that_ kind of role play. You swallow, wetting your lips with your tongue and let her pull your ocular protection off your face, staying on your knees. Thankfully, when she's expecting you in her quarters, she keeps the lights a little lower, it's not too uncomfortable. "I'm sure I would be udderly honoured by it, if I knew who you were." You make your voice a low snarl, deep and aggressive. The twitch of a grin makes you sure you've done the right thing before the expression turns back to fierce, and dominant. You're sweating, you can feel it.

She puts her foot in the centre of your chest, and you lean backward against your heels, still keeping your hands behind your back as you look up. If you'd truly been captured, you would not be nearly so agreeable, but the firm tone of her voice, the way she's ordering you around, it has your nook _wet_. You're going to ruin this uniform. You honestly don't mind in the slightest. You are entirely unsure what you've done to deserve this, especially considering the altercation with Strider, but you are not going to argue with it. And you are definitely not going to bring up your lapse in control in case she stops. "Fleet Admiral Crocker. And I'm going to _break_ you, troll."

_Please_. You only just manage to keep the word back as she moves away after giving you a little shove with her foot, something you give into as though it had actually rocked you on your knees and stay exactly where you are. "An Alternian officer is not so easily defeated, I think you will find." It is the first time in your life that you have been grateful to Nepeta for making you play along with her silly role plays. Otherwise you're sure you would be struck dumb, unable to think of what to say. Imagination was not always something that was rewarded by the Empire. And if this is the game Jane wants to play...then you will endeavour to comply to the best of your ability.

"Tosh and balderdash. I already destroyed your ship, and there's no one coming to get you or your troops. You will tell me all you know about Alternian troop movements...now, or after a _vigorous_ interrogation." She walks around you and you feel cool metal encircle your wrists. There's a little click as they come together, smooth and tight. You give a little tug, to see how much strength you'll need to hold back, and your eyebrow raises incredulously as you don't feel any hint of breaking. You pull your hands apart a little harder, and the - whatever they are - the cuffs, resist, until _you're_ the one who is straining, trying to pull your wrists apart. You don't even have the feeling like the cuffs are about to break, and you are _actually_ trying to pull them apart with your full strength. Something in your stomach lurches, and your bulge unsheathes abruptly, it almost hurts with how quickly it frees itself in a rush of sexual arousal. Jane leans down, pinching your ear between two fingers to whisper into your auricular spiral. "If you're uncomfortable at any time, remember. Diamond."

You nod and then she pulls away but not before bestowing a soft kiss on your cheek, and you feel the heated pulse in your nook as for the first time you can remember in your entire life, something is stronger than you. After this, you want to take the cuffs to pieces and find out just what made them work. Where had she gotten them from? Who had made them? You have so many questions. But for now, you're just. Absolutely aroused in a way that you've not experienced before. You want to Jane continue with whatever she has planned, and hope that it involves more of this. She's being so splendidly forceful, and there's something about the way her boots gleam that is intoxicating. Beautifully looked after, exquisitely maintained. You are completely in favour. "I suggest you do your worst."

"My worst? So we're starting with the interrogation then...and my, my, what's this?" She presses her booted heel to your bulge and you almost curl up, leaning over her calf as she presses down and you pant. Your breathing is harsh and unsteady, your back is dampening with sweat. If this was actually some sort of alien interrogation, you would be utterly humiliated. You would hope desperately that you would not be aroused if this was real. But since it's Jane...you merely roll your eyes up to look at her as she plucks your shades from your eyes and places them gently on the table. The care she shows your possessions makes you feel like you could swoon and you groan as her heel grinds in a little more against the base of your boneshield, bulge squirming eagerly in your pants and quite beyond your control. You're going to have to destroy this uniform - it's not going to be able to be salvaged. "Someone seems to be a little _excited_ by the situation. Whatever would the Empress think?"

"I - hkkk - I - " You groan as she wiggles her foot, pressing the flat of her shoe's toe against your bulge and you can't help the roll of your hips. She presses down and you whine. It hurts but not too much. It's the hot flush of shame racing down your back that hurts more. " _Please_ , I-"

"This is really quite shameful of you, officer. What's your name?"

"I, hrk. Zahhak. Enginihilator Zahhak - I - hkkssknrrk..." You trail off into a clicking of garbled Alternian, the words feeling almost strange in your chirpbox after so long speaking Earthian and forcing your tone into the singular reverberation best understand by humans. It's a begging sound. You tense, pressing against the restraints and they continue to hold, not allowing you to part your wrists. "Admiral, please. I."

"What disgraceful behaviour. I can tell that this interrogation isn't going to last long; so much for the pride of the Alternian navy." Her eyes are on yours, bright blue and sharp, and you just pant for breath helplessly under the laser focus of her gaze as it strips you bare. You are a disgrace. This is shameful. You. Hkk. You can't even think past the feel of your bulge squirming in your pants, begging for release. She makes a beckoning motion upwards. "On your feet, _sir_." The way she puts a tone on that term of respect makes it into a whip, and you shudder.

You stagger upwards obediently and she steadies you with a hand on your upper arm, disguising it with a hard tug forwards, making you stumble. She doesn't let you fall, wrapping her hand around your hair and yanking back at your hair until you bend, arch your throat and show it in a vulnerable display that has you growling despite yourself. A low deep chirr of rumbling warning as she pulls hard, harder, until it actually hurts. Tears show at the edge of your eyes, and she pauses, you can almost feel her gaze on you like a heavy thing as she waits for you to say the word but you have wanted this so badly, you are not going to say stop. Not for anything. Since you say nothing, Jane continues. It is not as though you both have not discussed most of this before...in the hypothetical, while you fenced and dithered, unwilling to admit exactly what you desired. All the same, you've obviously given Jane more than enough ideas. And if a boundary is crossed, you trust that she will stop when you used the word you've both agreed means stop, stop immediately. She uses the tight grip she has on your hair to force you to the bed, pressing your face into the comfortslab, those sheets smelling of her and you growl, make a show of shifting your arms, pretending at reluctance while your nook leaks dark blue fluids steadily into the crotch of your uniform.

"I believe a traditional Alternian interrogation starts with gentle slaps to the face, and the interrogator continues until there are tears," she murmurs into your ear and you are. You are a wreck. You nod slowly, because you believe that is true. You have never been that big a fan of courtblock dramas, but occasionally they make it into the rotation of movies you watch with your moirail when you both have the inclination and time to indulge in cinema. She pulls you back from the comfortslab, one hand still in your hair and her other hand slides over your chest. If this was what interrogation is like, you are in favour, but you believe that it is not normally like this. That would present some ethical quandaries if it were. Her teeth are at your throat and you can feel the sweat running down the back of your neck and beading on your forehead. "But I don't believe a blueblood like yourself would be discomfited by that sort of treatment at all. On the contrary, Enginihilator Zahhak, I would suggest that you would be excited by it. Like you are already, quite immodestly and improperly...shameful behaviour." Her breath is so warm as it whisper in your ear. You can feel her curls tickling against your skin. "I think I'm going to suggest that it's downright _wanton_. Behaviour unbefitting of an officer."

You shiver, quick unsteady pulse wracking your body and your nook clenches on nothing, making you feel the emptiness. She is correct, of course. Your behaviour may be restrained, you could still easily stop her if you were of a mind to - you wouldn't even need to do anything except say that one word, and she would stop. So far, you have not needed to use it but neither of you have tested things this far yet. This is. Exciting. Exhilarating. You are a disgrace to your blood, your rank, everything that you hold dear, and that shameful knowledge affects nothing, you only want for her to continue to take you apart. You trust her pity enough that you are willing to let her do it. And it makes pity well up in you in return, that she needs to do this, that you both want it like this. "If you are so, hkk, disgusted by it, maybe you should...stop. And return me to the general cells alongside my crew."

"I don't think you want me to do that, bucko." She bites your ear and you moan, trying to keep it back behind your gritted fangs. "I think in fact, that if I wanted you to divulge the information, all I would actually need to do is stop. I also think that an offer to continue, would be much more of a carrot than you deserve...but if you're a good obedient beast, then perhaps I might." The way she talks to you, so _very_ disrespectfully, makes you whine, and her breath is so warm against your skin as she whispers into your ear. Her fingers are wrapped in your hair, making you arch your throat, expose it, pulling your shoulders back with your wrists controlled at the small of your back. A thumb flicks open the top closure of your uniform and then you feel her fingers on your skin, stroking down the sweat-slick planes of your chest. More snap-tabs give way as she slides her hand down further, pressed against your back as though she could actually hold you down. You wish she could. But it's not as though Jane is lacking in STRONGNESS, you're sure there are more than a few trolls that she could overpower, if she wanted to. "Alright, turn around. I want to see just how much of a disgrace you are." 

Something in your acid sac burns and you swallow, and then slowly creep around on your knees as she lets go of your hair to allow you the space to follow her orders. Her fingers smooth against the loose strands instead of pulling now, and she caresses your intact horn lightly, rounding her fingers around the arrowhead tip. The touch helps, makes you feel grounded. Secure. You stay on your knees and look up and she looks down at you and you want to squirm on your knees; your bulge does, you can feel it pressing against the fabric of your pants. You can not remember ever feeling like this before, and all you want her to do is continue and take this to its hopeful conclusion.

"That is starting to look uncomfortable for you," she says in this cool, no nonsense voice that is like a trail of claws down your spine. Dangerous, threatening, but still a caress. She uses the grip on your horn to pull you to your feet again, and you go with it, feeling something in your chest flip as she then undoes the belt holding your pants around your waist, undoes the stickseal of the fly and pushes them down, past the obstacle of your bulge trying to twine into the fabric. You're nervous, excited, there's an almost guilty tinge to your arousal but that is only adding to the atmosphere. "There, is that better, Enginihilator? Look at how desperate you are."

You are so _very_ desperate for her to touch you. You simply nod in agreement to her statement, and she helps you to step out of your boots and pants. Maybe you should have disrobed before she put the restraints on. You can't help yourself, you keep testing them. Trying and trying to get your wrists apart. You can see that Jane notices, and it makes the corner of her mouth quirk. You are just so unused to anything being unable to stop you from doing exactly what you want with your body. Even before, it's been your self restraint that's held you still, not the power of the restraints. Every time you test the power of the cuffs and fail to make them move, separate, deny you your freedom, it's another dizzying swoop of lust in your stomach.

"Now, I'll ask you again...where is the rest of the convoy?" Her hand rubs over a grubscar and your breathing hitches, you feel another slow drip of slurry against the inside of your thigh and you groan as she pinches. Her teeth nip your throat, and your pants are hobbles, holding your ankles together as her hand skates down over the muscles of your flinching stomach, nails dragging against your skin. Softer, gentler than any troll could manage. It makes your pusher pulse with pity and you croon, low rasping trill of mating desire. She wraps her fingers around your bulge and squeezes, just a little too hard but it feels good, it hurts but it. Oh, _darn_. "Come on, Enginihilator...you know you want to tell me. Be sensible."

"I, hkk, no, I am not going to - ah!" She pinches the tip of your bulge between her fingers and you bend over as you can't control the jerky roll of your hips, shoulders straining as you pull against the cuffs again. They continue to hold despite your STRONGNESS and you shudder. How. How are they still _resisting_ your strength. Oh, _fiddlesticks_. What is she - oh, she really can't be - that's so - wait, honestly why are you even surprised - "Hrrkk!"

It's something like that long highly pleasurable Trollian chat that had led to the abrupt retirement of your workbench seating block, her hand pushes your bulge down and in the absence of any other welcoming entrance, the tip plunges almost immediately into your nook. Your thighs are quivering and you can't stop the chirp that comes from your mouth as it twists in, deep, and then deeper. You're bent over, shoulders hunched in a shamed curl as her hand rubs at the exposed curl of your bulge and you can feel it twisting inside your nook, stimulating, penetrating and penetrated and oh dear, you really need to sit down. It's almost like she reads your mind, pushing you back onto the comfortslab with a STRONG shove. You're not even fully out of your uniform and she hasn't removed hers at all, she barely looks rumpled although there's a darkness to her cheeks and a gleam in her eyes that says that you're not the only one fighting arousal here. Her fingers are stained with your colour, and you chirr at the sight, not able to help yourself.

You wish there was something stronger than fabric hobbling your knees and ankles together, to add to the feeling of being overwhelmed and at the playful mercy of her pity.

"You should just co-operate with the inevitable..." Jane murmurs, and rubs the heel of her palm over the exposed curl of your bulge, what little is left outside your nook. Your hips twitch and you slam your head back against the comfortslab, feeling the undulating pressure of your own bulge inside your nook. No difference in warmth, no change in temperature, just a steady curl and writhe against almost every inch inside you. It's indecent. It feels so good. You want more. The tip of it can only flick your seedflap in teasing movements, not quite enough. And yet, you know it's enough to make you spill your colour in a scandalous welter of dark blue slurry, without her even touching you. "And tell me what I need to know, officer. Or I might just let your Empire see how disgraced you are. We do record all interrogations, for later study. I'm sure that your high command would be delighted to see yours."

You flush at the idea of being exposed for the shameful deviant you truly are at your core, despite all your efforts to maintain your facade of stoicism, of perfect strength yoked to the Empire's guiding hand, you can feel the sweat almost pouring off your skin, soaking your nape and getting wicked straight up into the fabric of your uniform. At this point you're almost glad your uniform is still on your body, it might protect her sheets. You can't manage to pretend opposition any longer, and gabble something like co-ordinates, as though you were truly giving up the rest of your battle group, spilling every thought that you can think of as she strokes her fingers along the curve of your bulge and you tell the ceiling exactly how your supposed group of Alternian forces would be arrayed. Every so often, she prompts you and you tell her more fictitious details, about everything. Some of it is based on memories, but it's mostly just lies, spun out of whole cloth. Some of the supposed troop movements would see the starship very suddenly becoming a sun. Jane looks like she has barely a hair out of place, her uniform hasn't had one button undone, but her cheeks flush a little, pupils dilated and eyes wide, that faint hiss to her breath that says she's holding back. You shudder, and surrender as she strokes your cheek, kisses your mouth.

Her kisses are so sweet.

"There, isn't that so much better? Such a good boy, telling me everything I wanted to know," she murmurs. "And really, you're rather handsome for an alien species. I believe with the right influence, you could be useful in more ways than one." With a subtle pressure on the bed, she puts one knee up and then swings her other knee over, so she's kneeling above you. If you had wanted to fight, you could have headbutted her, gored her throat open with your intact horn, bitten deep until that bright red (mutant) blood was pouring out, but you do not. You just lie there, with the slick wet sounds inexorably coming from between your thighs as you pail yourself and trill like a pitysick wriggler as she doesn't even touch you except for her knees pressing against your waist, and then she gets her _hands on your face_ , thumbs smoothing circles into your cheeks, triggering pleasure-pacification receptors there and you buzz a purr, the sound choking through your chest. Torn between conciliatory and concupiscent desire, the muscles in your arms twitching with it as you briefly pull against the cuffs again. Does she even know what she's doing to you, does she realise how much of a pervert you are, how deviant that you are enjoying this, that you want her to do this to you? To take you to pieces in every way possible, and let her pity put you back together? You feel so selfish. Is this good for her too? You want to pleasure her with your mouth, you want to show her that you can be good, so good for her. "And you want to be controlled, don't you? You want to be given orders. You want to be a _good boy_. You've made such a good start," you turn your head to nuzzle her hand as she strokes your face, looking down at you with a pleased smile curving her lips, "and you are going to do so much _better_."

Two STRONG hands grab your shirt by either side of the collar, and you can see her biceps tighten under the white cloth, and then she rips it, you can feel the centre seam separating against the muscles of your back. With a few more harsh tugs, she dismembers the shirt into pieces so all you're left with is the cuffs and some scraps of sleeves around your forearms and she's discarded the rest on the floor. You can't remember being this aroused before in your life, you're breathless with it. She leans down now and kisses you, and you restrain your urge to surge up into it, letting her softer lips meet your chapped ones, letting her control it as she grips at your hair at either side of your face and does her own pulling, bringing the back off your head off the bed so she can maul your mouth with hers. She's still wearing her uniform and holding herself up in a stiff kneel, and with a little effort and cooperation the two of you remove your pants from your legs so now you're more or less nude under her, your bulge still continuing its unthinkingly relentless stroking inside your nook, body seeking pleasure as you groan deeply into her mouth, feeling her teeth close on your lower lip and _bite_ hard. You shudder underneath her.

You don't dare quite return the kiss as STRONGLY as she's kissing you, but you make an effort to do so as best you can. Breaking your new matesprit's jaw would be...deleterious to the relationship, you're sure. You rock underneath her, hips moving with the stroke of your bulge in your nook and she slams her hand against your chest and you chirp, sagging back into the bed as she leans back. Starts to undo the buttons of her shirt, shrugging it off her shoulders and exposing her muscular arms, losing it somewhere on the floor. You take a moment to admire, as she reaches behind herself to unclip her heftsack-holster, leaving her breasts bare to your eyes as it joins her shirt somewhere behind you both on the floor. It's a sight you're not yet used to, but you feel that it would be worth admiring for as long as she allows you to see her in such a state of undress. "Since I've gotten the information I wanted from you, it's time to get something else I want from you, big guy." 

A rumbling croon is all the answer you can make as she shoves her pants down to mid-thigh and your breathing stutters at the straps around her hips, eyebrows lifting in enquiry. What...in the world, is that? She grins at you, and leans up over you to press her breasts into your face so she can rummage under the comfortnubs at the head of the slumberplatform. She straightens up as she finds what she's looking for, and comes back with...is that a shamestick that she is holding. It doesn't quite look right. "What-" you say in a certain sense of befuddlement, and then her deft hands attach it to what you now recognise as a harness cupping her hips and the curves of her ass, some part of it inserted inside herself and her hands come down to your thighs and push, and you obediently spread them wider, and the blunt tip rubs against where your bulge is already seated deep inside your nook. "Hfff!" You arch, and you hate to admit it, but that was definitely a whimper. "Hrk!"

"Now, I don't think you can quite fit two at once...so we'll just remove this, shall we?" Her fingers grip your bulge and slowly, fighting your body as it seeks to pleasure itself to completion, pulls it from your nook. The grip she has is painful and you pant, constrain your need to writhe to twitches of your hips as you pullpullpull against the restraints locking your wrists in place. And they don't move. There is not a hint of release and you wonder, you need to know how this has been done but then she manages to pull even the tip of the slick blue tentacle of your bulge from the needy grasp of your nook, and you keen for her as she pins your bulge to your stomach with her hand. Pins it down against the clenching muscles of your abdomen and teases the sopping wet entrance to your nook with the blunt head of the shamestick she now has projecting from the curves of her hips. Low and centre, and you can't manage to catch your breath as you look up at her, into her blue blue blue eyes, the brilliance of her smile. You pity her _so much_. You would never allow someone you didn't pity to do this to you. "I think you're going to like this, Enginihilator. I'm so pleased you've decided to be of _personal, intimate_ service to the Alliance." It starts to press in, and it is _unyielding_ , it is absolutely nothing like a bulge. 

You are overwhelmed. You _whine_ as the shamestick presses deeper into your nook, not curling like a bulge would, or even. Hrk. You are ashamed to admit it, but you have used self-pailing devices to assist yourself in the more tumultuous times of your adolescence. You had been sure every time that someone would walk in on you (even if you shared your hive with no one except your lusus) and you had given them up sometime after your seventh sweep, not able to take the guilt of behaving in a way you were sure didn't meet the standards of your blood. And after that...well, you'd been a part of the Rebellion. You hadn't had time for that kind of self-indulgent nonsense. It doesn't behave like the shamesticks of your admittedly limited previous acquaintance, is what you think to yourself as it pushes deep, deeper into the ground already prepared by your bulge. It still hurts, it still burns as it opens your nook up to its smooth driving passage but it. _Oh, it's so good_.

"Do you like it?" Jane whispers and kisses you as the end of it rubs up against your seedflap and you're sweating, trembling. Her hands press on your shoulders, making you lie flat against the bed, hands pressed against the small of your back. The ache in your shoulders is going to last into the next work shift, and beyond. Your nook is aching under the steady pressure of the shamestick she's using to pail you. It hurts. You are so slick with pre-material that the thing seems to almost glide into you with something of a squelch. You manage to nod, and her smile blooms. It's precious to you, that you can make her smile and you hope you can remember how she looked when she's finished driving you out of your mind. All you are is a yawning pit of need and you don't know - you hope she does - that she realises what you are. She shifts her hips, pulls back with a slowness that makes you moan, and then pushes back in. The end almost thumps into the termination of your nook, rubbing against your shameglobes and you chirrup, breathing broken to pieces.

The rhythmic thrusting of her hips has your toes curling and you bounce the back of your head off the comfortplatform because this doesn't quite feel like it's going to make you orgasm. It's so close and yet so far, you're sweating so heavily, the sound of her hips meeting the inside of your thighs has a wet, organic component to it quite outside of the distinctly lewd sounds of the shamestick sliding into your nook. You arch your neck and chirp as one of her hands curls around your bulge, sliding from root to tip, pinching it just lightly and you buck your hips. 

"Whoa, careful there, buckaroo," she soothes you with a brisk pat to your cheek and you chirr for her, eyelids fluttering as the smooth slide of the pailing aid continues. You're getting more used to it as it continues, both the movement and the very definite way the tip of it collides with your genematerial sphincter. With her mouth back on yours, you moan into her mouth and encourage her every movement with a subtle roll of your hips, your tongue pressing against hers. So warm, she's always so warm. Jane is humming, purring, moaning, every sound of pleasure that is swallowed into your mouth makes you feel lighter, happier, so content to be doing exactly what you're doing. 

Orgasm sneaks up on you and you aren't expecting it when one last push of her hips, one last long grind, makes you spill your colour wastefully over the sheets and your thighs. She sighs, thrusts hard deeper into your oversensitive nook and her nails dig into your skin as she finally comes herself. Her head back, throat arched as she makes those soft sounds of bliss that you're addicted to at this point. Jane presses her forehead against yours as she breathes, body warm and almost too much on top of you until she recalls herself and slowly slides the shamestick out of your throbbing nook. Hissing, you shift and she pets your hip with a gentle caress. "Onto your stomach for me, dear." You turn over for her with an effort and she undoes the cuffs, sliding them over your hands and you yelp without meaning to as you let your arms come around, and Jane tsks with concern, rubbing her hands over your shoulders and upper arms, working at soothing the blood flow to the furthest part of your extremities. "I'll get you some water. Just lie here for a moment, alright? That's an order, don't you dare contradict me. I'm very proud of you, Equius."

She disappears from the bed, and to be honest, you're not sure if you could have moved if you tried. You just lie there and breathe, lower body sticky with slurry and the pulse of lingering bruising throbbing in your nook off-tempo with your pusher. Goodness. You're quite. Well. Thinking is hard. You only purr as Jane's weight makes the slumberplatform dip and her warm hands press at your shoulders as hard as she can manage, before urging you to roll over and sit up. Not sure of your control right at this moment, you sip from a glass she holds for you, and then she presses a kiss to your mouth. Sweeping your hair back out of your eyes as she laughs and kisses you all over your face.

"Well, wasn't that quite something!"

You chuckle a little, and your throat sort of hurts but you lean in and brush your lips over her cheek.

"Yes, indeed, Jane." You kiss the soft skin at her jaw, mouth lingering. "Quite something."

You're not really the type to accept pampering, but you're really quite sore in certain places and it's nice to let her fuss. It's...possibly just a little pale, but you're somewhat aching for pale affections at the moment and seeing Nepeta has just cemented that. Besides, she's human. From what you've seen, pale-red vacillation seems to be the basis of their mating fondness relationships. Also, cuddling. Vastly underrated. You are quite selfish in your enjoyment of it, of Jane's heated mammalian body pressed up against your cooler one.

At some point, Jane convinces you that you should allow both Roxy and Dirk access to your work in the name of assisting Nitram with any future repairs if required, and you grudgingly open up your workshop to allow visitors. There are a number of things you are willing to do, if it seems like it would make Jane happy. Even allow intruders into your workblock, no matter how temporary. You find it easier to communicate with them both over huskpad, you send through your designs and schematics for the lowblood's prosthetics and try to circumvent having them leaning over you, getting into your space to study your actual work. It helps, somewhat. Especially since you try to keep your working schedule off-kilter to circumvent them joining you at your workbench as you methodically take the prosthetics to pieces and rebuild them from the ground up. You've had to hide your pile of orange wires that you are intending to burn, so that they're not re-purposed, because you are _going to burn them_. 

You have a feeling that neither of them think you are good enough for Jane; that's fine, you're sure yourself that you are not, in any way or particular. It's not as though you can blame them when you think the same yourself. Apparently there are other humans in their coterie, Jane mentions other names from time to time, but these are the two you become familiar with.

Things with Lalonde and Strider become, if not comfortable, at least bearable. Lalonde occasionally has intriguing suggestions to make in terms of programming, not that prosthetics need that much, but in terms of feedback...useful. Interesting. You incorporate some of them, with grudging respect. It's something similar to the way you think about Captor. You don't like either of them, but that is not to say that they are not useful. Roxy is particularly insistent on learning the delicate mechanics of the biogrubs and your proposed surgery. Strider remains useless, and irritating. At this point, you are _certain_ he's doing it on purpose - especially that thing where you'll be working on something, turn to grab a new tool and then he'll almost flow out of the way and you had no idea he was standing there at all. It's unnerving. Also, it's going to get you killed, if you manage to zone out that intensely around a troll who might have their eye on your officer position. You wish he'd stop, but you are _never_ going to ask him to. That would be admitting a weakness that you don't want to voice. And you want to figure out how he does it. It _irks_ you.

Once when Jane is unable to accompany you to the physical exercise area, you cautiously accept Strider's offer of company. You...are not entirely sure how he thinks that he will be able to match you. Something in you wants him to try. It's the same part of you that is building a pile of orange wires to burn in a ceremonial cleansing of what hideous inadequacies he perpetrated on your blameless mechanics. He's cleared a space for the two of you in the physical recreational block, a fighting ring of sorts, and you tie your hair back out of your eyes, and catch his eyes staring at your biceps as your muscles flex. Interesting. You raise an eyebrow, and then he coughs and retreats. Apparently he was not planning on facing you himself, and didn't mean you to notice him staring. You're quite personally familiar with how someone staring through shades looks like; after all, you do it yourself. 

"I doubt you know how to handle a sword, and I'm not in the mood to be pulverised so we're going with an intermediary," he says, and you have to admit, the technical proficiency of the robot that he orders into the ring is quite. Well. Now you are actually wondering if he made the mistakes in wiring inside Nitram's prostheses on purpose, because that is some solid engineering. You want to dismantle it and see how it works, it seems like a double of the pale human's body in every particular. Down to the ludicrous shades. They are so very hideous, you hate them. Uh, platonically, you mean. _It is all very platonic._

"If this is the only way you feel adequate enough to face me, then I suppose it will do," you tell him, and your statement manages to make his lip curl slightly, a palpable emotional response. It makes something inside your chest squirm, and you raise your fists in proper approved Marquise Faintail position as you square off with the fighting bot. It's not quite as effective as a proper boxinilator's pose, but it's quite showy. For some reason, you feel like doing that, being...on display. You have a certain fondness for sparring bots, you made enough of them - repaired them on a constant basis as well. You tested some of your earliest thoughts on mechanical engineering in them, your ideas on feedback and neuroresponse. They had led to your efforts in prosthetic repair for trolls. First. Aradia. Then Serket, because of course. You received less appreciation for that work than any other you've ever done in your life - somehow she managed to work it around so it was like she was doing you the favour, because _of course she did_. And Nitram. And then more then a few other trolls since then and the culmination of it all in the Helmsman Project. 

The smugness in Dirk's posture as you take up your somewhat showboating stance is...a little amusing, you admit to yourself. It suits you to have him think of you as amateurish. At least to start. The first impact of the robot's fist against your shoulder makes you hiss, and then you actually smile. Perhaps this will be something of an interesting fight after all. You have so many unresolved caliginous feelings, it would be good to get them out in an almost socially approved way. Beating a robot with something of Dirk's face in it seems like an acceptable way to do it. You enter into the fight with a little more meaning, some more finesse and you are really just starting to enjoy yourself when your fist connects with its centre plate and sends it flying. Not just from the ring - through a wall.

...oh dear.

You really hope that's not too difficult to fix. It does seem to be only a partition, at least. 

You recover faster than the humans watching you and get Strider's attention on you with a subtle sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind your ear as you stare him down. Mostly he seems gobsmacked. You are quite sure he did not mean for you to be able to do that. And definitely not so early in the fight.

"I might send you the programs I use for my personal sparring bots, Strider, see if it helps you to create more of a challenge if you want to try this experiment again," you say solicitously. And oh, it burns him, you can see it as he pulls his spine straighter, out of his habitual slouch. You've become more than aware that he thinks that his programming is better than just about anyone else's. "I thought the mechanisms worked quite well. I think I had better remove myself, however. Allow you to co-ordinate the repairs...I really should get back to work."

And you leave.

You don't look back, that would ruin the effect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *finger guns*
> 
> I hope you found the chapter worth waiting for.
> 
> The poem Equius uses is [The Oblation](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/50330) by Algernon Swinbourne, and it's quite lovely.


	24. Chapter 24

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Roxy, he fucking punched a robot through the wall.  
TT: Through a wall, Roxy.  
TT: A bro damn wall.  
TG: dirk wtf?

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TG: what fuckin robot the fuck did u do?! DIRK!!!!  
TG: u get back here! this isnt satisgfin 4 me! im yellin into a void and it is vvvvv unsatisfin!

timaeusTestified [TT] is an idle chum!

TG: uuuuuurgh!!!!!!!!!  
TG: ur such a poophead  
TG: gdi i am not the magic girl who can fix everybodys problems  
TG: what if i had problems  
TG: did u ever think of that?  
TG: no bdy ever fuckikng thinks of that  
TG: fuck it  
TG: u better be around to talk about this later  
TG: im gonna nail ur emote deficient ass to the gd wall

timaeusTestified [TT] is an idle chum!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering  timaeusTestified [TT]

 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG2]

TG: yo yo lilest bro  
TG: got a favour to ask  
TG2: damn i hate it when im second in on our chats  
TG2: you take over all the cool shit rox including my chat handle acronym  
TG2: sticky hacker fingers all up in my shit  
TG2: but whats the haps whats the favour you need  
TG2: it might cost you im strictly a business sort of guy  
TG2: even when its family  
TG2: maybe especially when its family  
TG2: like what is this youre coming to me on the day of my daughters wedding  
TG2: youre not content with this massive feast of sick fires ive spread out before you  
TG2: you want a favour as well  
TG2: well shoot it straight from the fucking hip  
TG2: lay it on me lalonde v1.5  
TG: mmmm  
TG: talk to dirk 4 me? hes dodgin my calls  
TG: me in gen  
TG: i think he stopped sleeping in hs room even  
TG2: does this involve feelings????  
TG2: were both too cool for feeling jams roxy  
TG2: too ice cold to go diamond pale  
TG2: maybe you should ask your sorta daughterclone and not me  
TG2: get lalonde v2.0 to sherlock holmes her way inside his head  
TG2: turn his psyche inside out like it was some sort of reversible jacket  
TG2: wear it so his insides are now outsides and all the vulnerable bits are oozing everywhere  
TG2: delicious feeling jam smeared all over her dainty hands  
TG2: how are you feeling today mr strider do you think this needless tomfuckery has something to do with how you were raised by a computer as a child and never held in a soft maternal grasp  
TG2: were striders lalonde  
TG2: feelings are for nerds  
TG: lol my precious emotionally retarded strider boobies  
TG: *bewbies  
TG: *babies  
TG: just talk to him it doesnt need to involve ne feelins  
TG: distract him  
TG: ill steal some cookies from janeybae 4 u  
TG2: cookies?? now were fucking talking  
TG2: you get me some sweet fucking crocker cookies ill grab dirk and ask him if he wants to spit some sick fires  
TG2: were probably due anyway for some bro to bro discourse  
TG2: you got yourself a deal  
TG: pinkie swear?  
TG2: sure  
TG: if were going to be fucking adolescent lets go all the way  
TG2: i pinkie swear rox i will find a way to pry open the doublelock padlock on the chest of dirks feelings box and tell you the shape of whats inside  
TG2: its going to be ugly as sin no doubt but i will face the fucking hydra for you  
TG2: and for the sake of jane crockers cookies  
TG2: you better come through on that lalonde or face the wrath of the universe for breaking a pinkie promise  
TG: mwah! ur a good boy to ur ectosortasistamom  
TG2: i said no god damn treacherous feelings lalonde and i meant it  
TG2: get those revolting digital mom kisses away from me  
TG: mwaaaaaaah! :-* u love it, im a hot mom  
TG: *winkwonk*

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering  turntechGodhead [TG2]

 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering  timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: DIRK STRIDER  
TG: i jst saw the securicam vidfeed  
TG: u have some splaining to do mister!  
TG: a lot of splaining!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering  timaeusTestified [TT]


	25. Chapter 25

cuttlefishCuller [CC] began trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG] 

CC: W)(AL-E! So, guess w)(at I got on my administrative plane t)(is beautiful -EV-ENING?  
GG: I imagine it would have been quite a lot of mundane paperwork if your workload is anything like mine. Requisitions, some whining about how terrible things are and how much better they used to be, orders to be countersigned and forwarded on, and maybe some things to tickybox yes to.  
GG: Inconsequential things that just need a little tick and then they're out of your illustrious hair! You wouldn't want anything getting lost in there.  
CC: Glub! I s)(ore did get somefin t)(at I R-E-ELLY T)(INK you want me to tickybox in t)(e AFINMATIV-E, miss!  
CC: Somefin conc)(cerning a certain SOM-EON-E'S matesprits)(ip! T)(e paperwork is just COV-ER-ED in sticky confectionary cakepaint! 38)  
GG: Oh my, I wonder who that icing smeared paperwork could possible belong to? It's a mystery. I should endeavour to get to the bottom of it, if I were you - and also sign it. Immediately.  
CC: We're going to )(ave a PARTY! I insist, and I won't )(ear no, madam Fleet Admiral.  
CC: After all, t)(e Alliance C-EL-EBRATION was s)(elld on t)(e )(FA flags)(ip...I t)(ink it's tide sprat T)(-E ALT-ERNIAN -EMPIR-E did a littoral s)(owboating!  
GG: Feferi, I just got this matesprit, I'm not going to let you shove him out into the spotlight to be dissected or possibly assassinated.  
CC: Prawnestly, Jane, )(ow ling do you t)(ink you )(ave befo'c'sle t)(at )(arpoons anywave? T)(e spotlig)(t, I mean, I don't want to sea )(im assassinated eit)(er.  
GG: I can pretend that I have a lot of time if I feel like it, missy! I kept the signing between myself, Equius, Nepeta and Roxy on purpose, and that's also why I sent the papers directly to you for approval instead of letting them pass through the usual administrative channels to be pawed all over.  
CC: Gull, you prow as w)(ale as I do )(ow muc)( bot)( of oar species like to glubbing GOSSIP! Bay minnow, I betta you anyfin t)(at t)(is bait of scuttlebutt is gaining speed t)(roug)( BOT)( of our forces like a barracuda t)(roug)( a sc)(ool of baitfis)(. You're an important perc)(son, people talk aboat you, you effect t)(eir LIV-ES, everyt)(ing you do ripples t)(roug)(. You can't blame t)(em for being INT-ER-EST-ED!  
CC: T)(ey do t)(e same fin wave me, so it's naut pike I don't minnow w)(arf it's pike.  
CC: Betta to get it over wave, and in t)(e wave you want it to go. Get t)(e rayg)(t sort of spin on t)(e w)(ole t)(ing.  
GG: Don't be sensible at me, I've been enjoying the brief abdication from my duties, at least as it concerns one part of my romantic life.  
GG: I feel like there's enough official involvement in mine and Gamzee's relationship as it is. More than enough. Too much, in fact!  
CC: You're preac)(ing to t)(e GLUBBING VOCAL GROUP ARRANG-EM-ENT )(-ER-E, gill. All of my quadrants are offis)(ial Imperial business, you prow. W)(en I breakered off my morayeelgiance wit)( -Erifis)(, it was a R-E-EL BIG D-EAL.  
CC: I'm just glad it )(arpooned during t)(e raybellion, and naut after. I waven't even -Empress yet and it was a )(uge M-ESS! 38O  
CC: And you prow exactly w)(at )(arpooned wit)( my pale quadrant after I becayme -Empress, becrayse you kelped to arayange it! Glub!  
GG: Fine, fine. Why are you so set on us hotfooting it over to the Alternian mothership? I really don't think Equius is going to enjoy the attention, or approve of it.  
CC: Don't W)(ARU aboat it. If I s)(ell )(im to do it, )(e will do -EXACTLY w)(arf I s)(ell )(im to do! )(e's a very good offis)(er. 38)  
GG: Sometimes being in charge of trolls must make things so much easier. There's this certain unquestioning response to authority that I could really use when I'm talking to civilians, or even some of the older officers who are meant to be under my command. But I guess in the Empire...  
CC: )(A! If only it wave like t)(at atoll of t)(e tide! Some of t)(e older )(ig)(bloods can get R-E-EL P-ERSNICK-ETY!  
CC: But t)(ere's naut R-E-ELLY anyt)(ing like a civilian! You're eit)(er in t)(e Imperial Forces, or you're a wriggler. Or D-EAD! I'm trying to c)(ange t)(at, you minnow I am. It would make our society as a w)(ole moray balanced...but ug)(. T)(en w)(arf do I do wave all of my subjects? I still need to take care of t)(em, we just don't )(ave your kind of -ECONOMY!  
GG: I remain convinced that you will find a way to make your society more equitable and maintain their standard of living, Feferi. You're doing so well as it is, you really are.  
CC: It's just so )(ard! And most of t)(em don't even WANT me to!! Or t)(ey don't see w)(at's so WRONG about t)(e WAV-E T)(INGS AR-E RAYG)(T MINNOW!!!  
GG: I hate to seem like I'm being forward in a pale manner, but are you quite the thing, Feferi, dear?  
CC: Ug)(, no, you're fin! I'm just frustrated.  
CC: T)(ings are pretty trobubblesome between me and -Eridan rayg)(t minnow, and Karkat's BUSY wit)( important t)(ings. Remora important t)(an relations)(ip issues.  
CC: Can you send me some moray of your political science books? I need to find somefin. I'm s)(ore t)(ere's somefin. We're just so used to t)(e wave t)(ings are, and t)(ere )(as to be somefin B-ETTA for Alternia, for trolls. Moby I can subvert t)(ings from )(uman practice.  
GG: We are a different species, Feferi. Quite different, I think at times. It might not help...they are human political systems, after all!  
CC: But it MIG)(T, and w)(at sort of -Empress am I if I don't try? 38(  
CC: I'd be just as BAD as t)(e COND-ESC-E!  
CC: Did you prow t)(at we lose somefin pike TW-ENTY FIV-E P-ER C-ENT of new recruits to accidents and deliberate cullings in t)(e first cycle after Ascension? Twenty five! Somefin pike t)(irty per cent of t)(at is drone related.  
CC: I've tried to relax t)(e culling standards around pail donation, but it's so )(ARD! We need t)(e slurry, or t)(ere isn't a big enoug)( feeding for t)(e Mot)(er Grub, and I've been told by t)(e Jades t)(at DIR-E T)(INGS would result!!! T)(e COND-ESC-E bloated )(er UP and now )(ere I AM TRYING to fix it, but it's JUST SO )(ARD!  
CC: And everyone blames M-E, no manta w)(arf I do! W)(ic)( is FAIR, I SUPORPOIS-E! I am t)(e -Empress, it all stops wave M-E!  
CC: GLUB GLUB GLUB GLUB GLUB GLUB GLUB!!!  
GG: Whoa, whoa, Feferi, pull in those galloping glubs! It's going to be alright, I have faith in you, and I'm sure most of your subjects do as well. You're doing a good job, if you trust my opinion.  
CC: W)(AL-E, naut pike t)(ey )(ave a conc)(ce! It's me! It's just me. Sometides it's just so...tiring.  
GG: You're going to manage this, I know you are. Look, you're fighting centuries of tradition here, a millennium even, of total control and cultural domination by the previous Empress. She made things the way she wanted them to be, made it your culture.  
GG: That isn't going to be easy. You knew that. You said as much to me when we had our first meeting!  
GG: And there are always going to be people who say things used to be better, somehow, in the past. I don't think trolls or humans are different in that way.  
GG: You know what, Feferi, I really think you should go talk to Jade. Uh. Get in a pile and have a little bit of a jam?  
CC: O)( my GOODN-ESS, JAN-E CROCK-ER! JAN-E. )(OW GLUBBING S)(AM-EL-ESS.  
CC: You don't just tell someone to G-ET IN A PIL-E AND JAM! O)( MY COD! 380  
CC: Does -Equius prow you go around s)(elling people to get in a PIL-E? And even saying t)(at t)(ey s)(oald JAM? I don't t)(ink )(e'd approve!  
GG: :B  
GG: Shameless. I think I like the sound of that! Jane 'Shameless' Crocker. Has a certain ring about it, don't you think?  
GG: I'd take it as my title if it was only eight letters long!  
CC: )(a)(a)(a! )(oki, moby I feel a littoral betta minnow.  
CC: And I will go talk to Jade in a minute or so. But it's NON-E of your B-E-ESWAX if we net in a pile or NAUT!  
CC: You wanton, conniving diamond minx. )(umans, I SW-EAR! No sense of PAL-E decorum W)(ARFSO-EBB-ER!  
GG: Yessss, so I've been told, we're really rather terrible that way, I'm afraid. Pack animals, you see, socialisation, hierarchy, mutual grooming, etc! So, our status of in cahoots continues?  
CC: O)( yes, ABSOLUT-ELY! 38)  
CC: I can't t)(ink of anyone I would rat)(er be in -Empressly ca)(oots WAV-E!  
CC: Prawnestly, it's just. Nice. To )(ave someone w)(o understands )(ow terribubble it can be to )(ave all t)(e decisions on your s)(oalders, )(ow daunting? It's not somefin t)(at's natural for a troll of my caste.  
GG: Yes, I imagine the immediate urge to commit savage murder on seeing another of your blood colour can be somewhat wearing and unconducive to friendly relations. I admit to feeling something similar for my own grandmother, but it's not quite the same inescapable compulsion.  
CC: T)(at's not a bad wave to put it, an inescapable compulsion. I reelly don't minnow w)(at I'm going to do w)(en t)(e next )(eiress surfaces; but t)(at's a probubblem for anot)(er nig)(t.  
CC: Also, party! Still on! I )(aven't been distracted, miss fancy cakes.  
CC: S)(oal we say, moby a few perigees from minnow?  
GG: Oh geez, you're really not going to let this go!  
CC: Nope! I'm going to talk to Jade aboat it, and t)(en you're R-E-ELLY gonna be STUCK!  
CC: Party at my plaice! 38D  
GG: Should I bring snacks?  
CC: I t)(ink I can manage just FIN on t)(e catering front, t)(ank you. Alt)(oug)(, I won't object if some delicious iced snacknubs wound up in my P-ERC)(SONAL quarters, for some unknown reason.  
GG: Copy that, ma'am.  
GG: I guess I don't have to pretend like I like it.  
CC: Come on, Jane. You minnow it'll be fun. Betides, pike I said before - you gotta let t)(e -EMPIR-E )(ave a moment to S)(IN-E.  
GG: Don't play the giggling bubblehead with me, Peixes. This isn't about that at all.  
CC: It is, and it isn't.  
CC: I want to mako it V-ERY CL-EAR t)(at t)(e -Empire is c)(anging. All of it! I can't kelp it if your perc)(sonal relations)(ips are going to assist me.  
CC: I am )(appy for -Equius, I am.  
CC: R-E-ELLY!  
CC: And I'm )(appy for you too.  
CC: But I am t)(e -Empress. You s)(oald understand t)(at, at least a littoral. Sometides, you use t)(e tools you )(ave and )(ope t)(at t)(ey don't break.  
GG: That is a terrible way to look at things.  
GG: But yes, I understand, Feferi dear. I still don't have to like it. I don't enjoy the thought of my matesprit being a tool.  
CC: You gave me a morayeel as a tool, Jane. You s)(oald know betta.  
CC: No )(ard feelings?  
GG: A few hard feelings, but I'll get over them. I do understand your position, it's nowhere near as steady as most of your Empire probably thinks.  
CC: -Excellent! T)(en I'll organise t)(ings pier, and let you minnow. Don't s)(ell -Equius yet. I'll contact )(im mys)(ellf.  
GG: Alright.  
GG: Damn, I have to go. Something's exploding somewhere. A robot, apparently? Odd.  
GG: Send the details of the event through to the older Strider, and he'll check things out from our end for security.  
GG: Talk to you later, gillfrond.  
CC: 38)  
CC: Sea you soon, Jane.  
CC: Glub! I'm -EXCIT-ED!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling gutsyGumshoe [GG] 


	26. Chapter 26

adiosToreador [AT] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

AT: kARKAT,,,  
AT: kARKAT, i THINK i MAY HAVE, TO PUT IT BLUNTLY,,,  
AT: i THINK gAMZEE WOULD SAY, IF i CAN BORROW AN APHORISM FROM YOUR MOIRAIL,  
AT: pAILED THE MOTHERFUCKING BARKBEAST,  
AT: iN TERMS OF THIS, AUSPITICISM BETWEEN THE HUMAN AND,,,  
AT: wELL, i MIGHT AS WELL JUST SAY IT, i'M SURE YOU'VE GUESSED ANYWAY,  
AT: iT IS eQUIUS, hE IS THE HIGHBLOODED TROLL CURRENTLY UNDER DISCUSSION,  
AT: i DON'T SEE THE POINT ANY MORE OF PRETENDING IT'S NOT HIM, i THINK i'M PAST THAT POINT,,,  
AT: hELP,  
CG: NOT BEING ENTIRELY VACANT IN THE THINKPAN, DESPITE THE BEST EFFORTS OF MY MOIRAIL TO INTRODUCE ME TO VARIOUS SUBSTANCES THAT WOULD ENSURE I BECOME SO, I KIND OF PICKED UP ON THAT, TAVROS. HE IS THE ONLY OTHER TROLL CURRENTLY ON THE HUMAN FLAGSHIP.  
CG: WHO IS THE HUMAN, THEN? JUST HOW HIGH OF A FESTERING PILE OF HIDEOUS PAILSCRAPINGS HAVE YOU MANAGED TO MOUND TOGETHER IN AN UNHOLY CONGLOMERATION OF SICKENING DISCHARGE FROM YOUR INCONSISTENT EFFORTS TO PAIL A RESISTING BARKBEAST IN THE NAME OF ASHEN ROMANCE?  
AT: i DON'T KNOW IF i WANT TO SAY WHO THE HUMAN IS,,,nOT YET, ANYWAY,  
AT: i DON'T WANT YOU TO JUST LEAVE THE CONVERSATION AGAIN EITHER,uH, tHAT ISN'T HELPFUL,,,tO ME,  
CG: LOOK, EITHER YOU'RE ASKING FOR HELP IN THIS FUCKING RIDICULOUS SITUATION, OR YOU'RE NOT. IF YOU ARE, SPIT OUT WHATEVER IS FESTERING IN YOUR VOLUMECHUTE LIKE A RANCID MASS OF UNDIGESTED GRUBLOAF AND TELL ME EVERY DETAIL OF YOUR VIOLENTLY SWEAT-STAINED ISSUE, NOT HOLDING A SINGLE FUCKING THING BACK, OR I'M GOING TO TELL YOU TO TAKE A HIKE UP THE KARKAT DOESN'T ACTUALLY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR PERSONAL PROBLEMS MOUNTAIN.  
CG: IT'S A TALL MOUNTAIN. I HAVE A PILE OF ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKS TO GIVE ABOUT YOUR POTENTIAL ROMANTIC PROBLEMS SO HIGH IT RIVALS TROLL KILIMANJARO. I HAVE ENOUGH ROMANTIC PROBLEMS OF MY OWN TO CONTEND WITH.  
CG: AND IF THIS PALLID BEEFGRUB-SHITTERY IS WHAT DIPLOMATIC WORK HAS COME DOWN TO, I WILL CRY A FUCKING RIVER OF GOD DAMN PINK FUCKING TEARS OF PURE GRUBFUCKING DESPAIR OVER IT BECAUSE IT IS JUST THAT DISAPPOINTING TO ME THAT THE STATE OF AFFAIRS IN INTERSTELLAR DIPLOMACY HAVE DESCENDED TO THIS LEVEL.  
CG: WHY AREN'T YOU ASKING KANAYA ABOUT THIS ANYWAY, SHE WAS ALWAYS THE COMMUNAL SMALL COMMUNITY GROUP TWO-WHEELED ASHEN DEVICE BEFORE ASCENSION.  
AT: yES, bUT, yOU ARE CURRENTLY INVOLVED IN AN AUSPITICISM AND I DO NOT BELIEVE SHE IS,  
AT: sINCE THE FACT SHE REMAINED IN THE BROODING CAVERNS HAS TERMINATED HER ABILITY TO MEDDLE QUITE AS SUCCESSFULLY IN THE ASHEN QUADRANT FOR OUR PEER GROUP,  
AT: dESPITE HER PREVIOUS EFFORTS AND UH, REPUTATION,,,  
AT: aLSO, i THINK YOU SHOULD BE MORE POLITE ABOUT HER,  
AT: kANAYA WAS ALWAYS KIND TO ME, AND i'M PRETTY SURE, TO YOU TOO,  
CG: FAIR POINT, I'LL REIN IT IN. AT LEAST WHEN IT COMES TO A CERTAIN JADEBLOOD.  
AT: aNYWAY, RETURNING TO THE SUBJECT AT HAND, i'M NOT SURE IF SHE HAS QUADRANTS AT ALL CURRENTLY, LET ALONE ONE THAT REQUIRES SUCH A HIGH LEVEL OF MEDDLING AS BEING AN AUSPITICE, bUT REGARDLESS OF THAT FACT, IT IS YOU THAT i HAVE CONTACTED FOR ASSISTANCE,  
AT: i REALLY STILL THINK THAT YOU'RE THE BEST ONE TO ASK, UM, CONSIDERING THAT YOU ARE CURRENTLY THE THIRD LEAF IN AN ACTIVE AUSPITICISM BETWEEN TWO HIGH RANKING TROLLS,  
AT: tHE HIGHEST, EVEN,,,  
AT: aND THAT IS SOMETHING SIMILAR TO THE POSITION i MAY NOW FIND MYSELF IN,  
AT: oR i WILL, AS SOON AS I GET THE OTHER TWO LEAVES TO ACCEPT IT,  
AT: i HAVE NO INTENTION OF ALLOWING THEM NOT TO NOW,  
AT: tHIS IS BECOMING A DISASTER,  
AT: i MEAN, IT IS REALLY BAD, kARKAT, HELP, i NEED SOME WAY TO STOP THEM ARGUING ABOVE MY PROSTHESES AND ACTUALLY CONCENTRATE ON WHAT THEY'RE DOING,  
AT: i DON'T KNOW WHY eQUIUS EVER ALLOWED dIRK TO SIT IN,,,  
AT: uH OH, i, UH, i DIDN'T MEAN TO TELL YOU THAT,,,fUCK,  
AT: pLEASE FORGET i MENTIONED THAT NAME, AT ALL,,,pRETEND i WROTE SOMEONE ELSE'S NAME MAYBE,  
CG: STRIDER? OH MY SWEET GLOBEFONDLING FUCK, ARE YOU SCREWED! HE IS ONE OF THE MOST FUCKING PEDANTIC, STOIC ASSHOLES I'VE EVER MET, I'M ACTUALLY SURPRISED THEY DIDN'T FALL INTO SUDDEN PITY WITH EACH OTHER.  
AT: nO, i THINK THAT THE REPAIRS THAT dIRK TRIED TO CARRY OUT ON MY PROSTHESES BEFORE i HAD TO CONTACT eQUIUS REGARDING THEIR IMPENDING FAILURE MADE SURE THAT THAT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN,,,  
AT: aLTHOUGH i AGREE THAT AT FIRST GLANCE, THEY SHARE SEVERAL INTERESTS THAT MAY HAVE INDUCED A FLUSH ROMANCE, i THINK THEY ARE BEYOND THAT NOW,,,uH, IN A BIG WAY,  
AT: aLSO, YOU KNOW, eQUIUS IS FLUSHED FOR jANE, sO,,,  
CG: ALRIGHT. I FEEL SORRY ENOUGH FOR YOU THAT I'M GOING TO HELP, OUT OF THE PURE GRUBCARESSING KINDNESS OF MY FUCKING SOFT AS MARSHMALLOW CARDIOPUSHER.  
CG: ALSO BECAUSE THIS IS A FUCKING TRAIN WRECK AND FOR ONCE DESPITE WHAT I USUALLY FEEL ABOUT TROLLS AND THEIR DIFFICULTIES, ROMANTIC OR OTHERWISE, I'M GOING TO SAY THAT YOU DON'T DESERVE IT. YOU SERIOUSLY HAVE THE WORST FUCKING LUCK OF ALMOST ANYONE I KNOW, NITRAM.  
AT: }:S  
AT: yOU KNOW, SOMETIMES, YOU CAN BE REALLY UNHELPFUL, WITH IMPORTANT THINGS,  
AT: iF YOU'RE GOING TO FINALLY ASSIST ME WITH THIS, THEN i'M NOT SURE i CARE, JUST TELL ME HOW YOU MANAGED TO GET TWO HIGHBLOODS TO LISTEN TO YOU AND ACCEPT YOUR AUSPITICISM,,,  
AT: i THINK THAT'S MY BIGGEST PROBLEM AT THE MOMENT,  
AT: gETTING THEIR ATTENTION, aND SINCE THEY'RE MEANT TO BE FIXING MY PROSTHETICS, YOU WOULD THINK IT WOULD BE EASIER THAN IT HAS BEEN,,,  
CG: THEY'RE MORE THE TYPE TO GET CAUGHT IN A WHIRLING VORTEX OF OBSESSION, AND I'M GOING TO GUESS THAT RIGHT NOW THEY'VE TUNED INTO EACH OTHER LIKE THE WORST KIND OF HARMONIC FUCKING CHORDS.  
CG: I DON'T NEED TO ASK IF I'M RIGHT, I KNOW I AM.  
CG: HOW DID YOU LET IT GET TO THIS POINT?  
AT: i JUST WANT TO POINT OUT HERE, UH, THAT i ASKED YOU FOR HELP A WHILE AGO, ACTUALLY,  
AT: nOT HELPING IS ALL ON YOUR SHOULDERS, i DID ASK A FEW CYCLES BACK FOR YOUR ADVICE REGARDING THIS SITUATION I FIND MYSELF IN AND YOU JUST LEFT THE CONVERSATION, uH, lIKE SOME KIND OF RAPIDLY FLEEING WRIGGLER WHO THINKS THEY'RE GOING TO BE ASKED TO DO CHORES BY THEIR LUSUS,  
AT: aND i FEEL LIKE YOU ARE A LITTLE TO BLAME FOR ALL OF THIS, iT'S NOT AS THOUGH i DIDN'T TRY TO REACH OUT,  
CG: ALRIGHT, FINE.  
CG: I GROVEL IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF MY FUCKING REPREHENSIBLE BEHAVIOUR IN LEAVING A FRIEND TO MANAGE THE UNNAVIGABLE REEFS AND IMPENETRABLE SHOALS OF GRAY ROMANCE ALONE.  
CG: I FUCKING REPENT OF MY MANIFOLD SINS. ARE WE DONE, CAN WE MOVE ON NOW?  
AT: i'M NOT SURE,  
AT: i AM ENJOYING THIS SIDE OF YOU, FOR ONCE,,,  
CG: DON'T PUSH ME, NITRAM, OR THE SWEET STRAINS OF MY APOLOGIES WILL BECOME ONCE MORE THE USUAL STRIDENT SCREAMS OF UNCEASING VITUPERATION REGARDING YOUR UNIMAGINABLE STUPIDITY IN FEELING ASH FOR BOTH ZAHHAK AND STRIDER AT THE SAME TIME.  
CG: YOU FUCKING BEEFGRUB-HORNED MORON. THIS IS ALMOST AS BAD AS THAT TIME YOU'D SOMEHOW MANAGED TO CONNECT YOUR THINKPAN TO YOUR WASTECHUTE AND CONVINCED YOURSELF YOU FELT PALE FOR VRISKA. AFTER SHE THREW YOU OFF A CLIFF, NO LESS.  
AT: fINE, lET'S MOVE ON THEN,  
AT: yOU REALLY DIDN'T NEED TO BRING UP, uH, tHAT,  
AT: i DON'T KNOW WHY NOT A SINGLE PERSON i KNOW LETS ME ENJOY THESE MOMENTS, wHEN SOMEONE ACTUALLY APOLOGISES TO ME,,,  
AT: i FEEL LIKE i DESERVE TO GET TO ENJOY THEM FULLY, CONSIDERING THEY COME SO RARELY,  
AT: sO WHAT DO i DO, WITH MY CURRENT SITUATION, BETWEEN eQUIUS AND dIRK,  
AT: i REALLY HOPE YOU HAVE SOME GOOD ADVICE,,,  
AT: aFTER THE WAIT YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH, YOU BETTER,  
CG: YELL AT THEM.  
AT: wHAT,  
CG: YELL AT THEM LOUDLY AND OFTEN, REMIND THEM OF WHAT ABSOLUTE WASTES OF FUCKING OXYGEN THAT THEY ARE, AND HOW GLAD THEY SHOULD BE FOR YOUR GRUDGINGLY GIVEN GUIDANCE TO ENSURE THAT THEY DON'T MAKE THE ACTUAL HEINOUS ERROR OF ENTERING INTO THE BLACK QUADRANT TOGETHER.  
AT: wOOOOW, i REALLY DON'T THINK THAT IS GOING TO WORK,  
AT: iN FACT, i THINK i'M GOING TO CALL THAT TERRIBLE ADVICE,  
AT: aND NOT TAKE IT,  
CG: YOU FUCKING ASKED. REAP THE BENEFIT OF MY EXPERIENCE OR NOT, BUT DROWNING THEM BOTH OUT USUALLY MANAGES TO AT LEAST ALLOW ME A TOEHOLD INTO THE SITUATION, BEFORE I HAMMER THEM WITH MY GOOD SENSE.  
AT: i REALLY WONDER SOMETIMES HOW YOU MANAGED TO NAB THE TITLE OF ROMANCE EXPERT,  
AT: cONSIDERING YOUR ACTUAL TERRIBLE ADVICE GIVING REGARDING THAT SUBJECT,  
AT: tHE ADVICE YOU JUST GAVE ME BEING MY CASE IN POINT,  
AT: aND UH, YEAH, i'M GOING TO FIGURE SOMETHING OUT ON MY OWN,  
AT: lIKE i SHOULD HAVE FROM THE START,  
CG: YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING UNGRATEFUL, YOU KNOW THAT?  
AT: yEAH, i'M GOING TO GO AND SEE WHAT i CAN DO TO FIX THIS ISSUE,  
AT: mAYBE IF i GET LUCKY, kANAYA WILL RESPOND TO MY TROLLING,  
AT: aND OFFER SOME SLIGHTLY MORE INSIGHTFUL ADVICE THAN YOU HAVE, kARKAT,  
AT: tHANKS, i GUESS, FOR NOT VERY MUCH AT ALL,

adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]


	27. Chapter 27

adiosToreador [AT] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

apocalypseArisen [AA] is an idle troll!

AT: sO, uH, i DON’T KNOW WHEN YOU’RE GOING TO GET THIS,,,  
AT: sINCE YOU’RE PRETTY MUCH AT THE FURTHEST EDGES OF EXPLORED SPACE,  
AT: mAKING IT, mORE EXPLORED, i GUESS,  
AT: wITH THAT HUMAN,,,aRADIA, tHAT’S STILL WEIRD, i DON’T GET THIS WHOLE HUMAN THING, EVEN IF I AM THE AMBASSADOR TO THE SPECIES,,,  
AT: bUT I SUPPORT YOU IN THE CHOICES YOU MAKE, aND I WANT YOU TO BE CLEAR THAT I SUPPORT THIS ONE AS WELL,  
AT: aS WEIRD AS IT IS,  
AT: uH, aNYWAY,  
AT: wHEN YOU GET BACK INTO RANGE, cONTACT ME, pLEASE,  
AT: i KNOW YOU DON’T LIKE HEARING ABOUT,,, eQUIUS,  
AT: bUT I DON’T KNOW IF ANYONE ELSE WILL TELL YOU WHAT YOU NEED TO HEAR IN THE WAY YOU SHOULD HEAR IT,  
AT: aND, i MISS YOU,  
AT: i COULD REALLY USE YOUR ADVICE SOMETIMES,,,  
AT: yOU ALWAYS SEEM TO KNOW THE WAY TO SAY SOMETHING IN A WAY THAT MAKES ME FEEL AS THOUGH i COULD BE MORE CONFIDENT, UH, ALTHOUGH i HAVE MUCH MORE SELF CONFIDENCE NOW THAN i DID WHEN i WAS YOUNGER,  
AT: bUT i STILL MISS YOU,,,  
AT: tHAT REALLY ISN'T SOMETHING THAT CHANGES,,,  
AT: <>

apocalypseArisen [AA]  is an idle troll!

adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]


	28. Chapter 28

The operation is a success. The bioneural grubs you inserted into Nitram's flesh make their happy hive inside him, melting, almost dissolving into his body and offering the required nerve-sheath linkups between his own neural systems and the biosynthesised nerves of the robot prostheses that you have spent so long re-engineering. Painstakingly patching together broken connections, repairing butchered programming as they fused into the meat of his body in a technological symbiosis. Your neurogrubs are quite the success, despite everything. All of the work you'd had to do to fix what had been broken had been a long and arduous task. The worst thing was, was that it hadn't needed to be. You are going to find a way to pull Dirk Strider's spine right out _through his gosh darn flatly wise cracking mouth and you will **make** him react in a way beyond a simple twitch of his lip and_ \- no. _No_. 

Despite your best efforts to avoid Nitram's ashen hints, you wind up talking to him privately. There is a discussion. It is distinctly...gray. You believe you have been auspiticed, quite firmly. It's uncanny, you didn't think he had it in him. You don't really want to talk about what was discussed, you don't want to even think about it (he'd been so calm, so very forceful and vaguely sarcastic about the knots you were tying yourself into in an effort to remain civil, so unlike what you remembered) (he had damn well _scolded_ you for your behaviour like you were a new recruit), but remaining far away from Dirk had been the basis of it. You consider yourself to be doing quite well with it too, you barely have a cycle or so left on the _Valentina_ , before you go back to your moirail. 

You are so eager to have warm hands on your face, her purr reverberating against your back. And yes, shameless as it is, her tempting offer of a bubblebath with hornrubs and hair care was something that you shooshed yourself to sleep at day with. So tantalizing. You are so very, _very_ tired - exhausted may indeed be the word you require - of trying to think in Terran and translate your every word, of dealing with aliens constantly, no proper recuperacoon so you can at least rest easy in the day, even if it does come with the positive benefit of Jane's company. And you have enjoyed it, you have. You know how lucky you are. You still want to return to somewhere familiar, walk through corridors that were built for your kind with technology that you understand and interfaces well with your hand and your body. Serves your purposes without modification. A troll can't live on flush alone.

You are going to continue to avoid Dirk Strider.

It is the healthiest, best course of action that you could possibly pursue.

You're really unsure then as to how you've wound up here after making such a STRONG decision (it possibly had something to do with the tinny high pitched songs that had cascaded from every corner of your workblock until you found every one of the tiny speakers and crushed them between your palms - and the strange puppets that had cascaded out at you at every opportunity, driving you even further to _distraction_ when you have _work_ to do), pressing him to the wall of your workblock, hands fisted in the shoulders of his shirt so hard that your fingers tear the cloth with a harsh rip. You are one breath away from setting your fangs in his throat and _tearing_ it out. You are not the type of troll to indulge in flings - _what an utterly wretched word that is_ \- but it is the only one that suits this scenario, outside of drone season. When it is Drone Season, this type of thing is _needed_ , mandated, required. It is not done for fun, or for pleasure. Or at least, it has never been that way for you. You do not indulge in affairs of the flesh outside of when it absolutely necessary, not if it was not acceptable behaviour inside a quadrant - you have never thought you would be the type of troll to be so. Decadent. He's not even a troll. You really have no excuse, none whatsoever.

Yet here you are.

Here he is.

At least one thing that you can say, is that it is definitely not flush.

His fingers digging into your shoulders, your upper arms and barely making a dent as he lunges forward for a kiss, and you snarl. Unafraid in the face of your simmering anger, he kisses you. Warmth as his tongue snakes between your lips, and one long-fingered hand grabs your ass, pulling you somehow closer. How _dare_ he. How dare he make you feel like this, how dare he taunt you, and then do this. As though you had any _right_ , any ability to actually do what you want with it. You have never been a troll to make emotional attachment lightly. Is it simply human inability to understand caliginous romance, or does he understand what he is doing and is simply playing with you? You don't know, and his hot mouth on yours encourages you not to care. You hiss out a rattling growl and he _bites_ you, his hand on your waist and sliding down. 

You're not exactly sure when both of you lose your pants, but you know exactly when he sweeps your feet out from under you and you both wind up on the floor. You on the bottom, but both of you lose your ocular protection as you grapple so it's not all a loss on your side. His eyes are a burnt orange, and you've never seen them before - but you know that shade. It's the colour of those wires, those gosh forsaken fiddlesticking wires polluting your mechanics. You grasp and claw at him, kissing him and trying not to break him and the fact that you have to control yourself only makes you _angrier_. How dare he try to attempt any sort of black romance with you, when he's so weak? So frail? You don't pay any attention to how his hands are sliding down your arms to your wrists until your wrists hit the floor and you can't move them. _Cuffs_. Those cuffs in particular. You don't know of anything else that works like this. "How did you-"

Those were something that were _Jane's!_ You become even more infuriated by the idea of the theft, hips bucking up to try and throw him off as he clings to you like a gargoyle. Thighs squeezed tight around your waist and fingers grabbing at your shirt as you snarl and try to get him off you. You had thought he was many things, but you hadn't thought that he was a thief. Maybe you had given him more honour in your thoughts about him, then he actually had.

"I _made_ them, do you think I was idiotic enough not to make a back-up pair?" Dirk hisses at you. He what? He made those? You snarl, and your hips roll again, trying to send him flying with a twist of your body. Just because your hands are pinned to the ground doesn't mean you can't still beat him. He punches you in the face and you hiss at him again, laugh choking in your throat as he waves his hand about and curses as he almost breaks his bones on the angle of your jawbone. That was an ill thought out move of his - irregardless, you're still _trapped_. "God, you're _insufferable_ -"

"Damn you-"

"Fuck you, seriously, what the fresh fuck are you even made from -"

You buck your hips again and he rises up, one hand on your chest and ass coming down hard on your belly and knocking the wind out of you. Then his hand is on his throat and you're kissing again and this time you don't hold back. Your arms flex and strain and you think you hear metal whine as his fingers, so long, so finely formed, close around your throat as he kisses you. You're breathless for so many reasons and you aren't...you don't think you're going to be able to salvage this uniform, it's going to be _soaked_ with slurry.

"Are you just going to _keep talking_ or actually do something?" you snarl at him, as he lets go and leans back, licking his lips. You've made him bleed, it's red (animal red) trailing down his chin. Mutant, filthy, _disgusting_ \- you're as furious with yourself as you are with him. You can't believe that he actually made those cuffs, you were sure they had to have been made by someone, something. Different. Better. You thought he was just in security, just some odd character but not one with an actual grasp of things like physics and mechanics and some sort of chemistry (honestly, what are these cuffs even made out of, you want to know, _you want to know_ , what if you can use it, it's so light, so strong). You were so obviously, wrong about him. About what he was capable of, what his abilities are. It makes you want to slide your claws through his skin from shoulder to hip and make him bleed.

"So you do want this? Just checking in here, I'd hate to think that we were doing anything you didn't want-"

"I despise you and I want you to realise that every bad thing in your life that happens is because of _you_ , and the _way you are_ , you insufferable fool. Didn't I just tell you to do something? Since you have me a little _tied up_ \- mm." Your mouths meet again, and this time _he_ bites _you_. It's good, even if his teeth are woefully blunt, he still has some jaw power to put a pinch on your lip as he tries to savage you. You are _aware_ of the biological differences between earth males and earth females, academically. It's not as though you haven't encountered sexually dimorphic species before, even if never so intimately before now. It's not really the same, being aware of the differences, as feeling that difference prodding against your thigh as he grinds down against you, nothing like a squirming bulge and nothing like Jane. Thick, and firm and - you want it in your nook immediately. You can't grab him the way you would want to, and that's probably a good thing. You don't want to crush his hips, you want him to be able to _move_ them. 

"I don't even - this is some fucking hentai bullshit, what the fuck is wrong with your species?" He has your bulge in his hand and you hiss, drawing breath in between your fangs as he squeezes. Just a little too hard, and runs his hand in that tight grip from bulge to tip. It's not a muscle that's really meant to take that kind of abuse but it feels so _deliciously_ pitch -

" _Careful_ ," you hiss out as he strokes you roughly from base to squirming tip, because it's not as though your bulge is invulnerable. And it is attached to you. You're a little fond of all your body parts, and you'd prefer they kept working at maximum capacity. Maybe a little more than fond of the one that he has in his long fingers and is squeezing down on almost mercilessly. Pinching at your flesh and making you twist and want to curse as you glare at him.

"What, you don't like this?" And he does it again and you buck your hips helplessly, head slamming back against the floor. Then there's two fingers in your nook and you howl, and he curses admiringly as your body vices around his fingers. You want to get up from the floor and make him submit to you, you want to - there are _so_ many things you want to do. No. You can't think like that, there is no way that this can be more than this. You're just. You just need to get this out of your system. And never, never admit to Nitram that you went and did this. Because then you'd have to admit that you really had accepted him as a damn auspitice, as low as he was, and you will _not_ admit such a thing. This didn't need auspisticing. Maybe all you both needed was to do it. And move on. "All trolls get this wet when they get fingerbanged, or just you?"

You try to kick him off again (you don't understand his colloquialisms but you know it was insulting) and he twists his fingers and you go limp, the nerves in your nook spasming as you shake and almost drool. They're pressing on things - so oddly, nothing like a bulge and it feels so gosh darn good. No one has _ever_ \- well, no troll would even try, unless they were corrupted by dealing with humans, and Jane is rough on you in a different way. Next time, it won't be you on your back on the floor, _next time_ you will have the upper hand and you will _destroy_ him, you will tear him to pieces and show him what honour looks like. You promise yourself, forgetting for a moment that you can't do this again. This needs to be - it has to be a fling. Not anything permanent.

The nudge of his strange, stiff bulge against your nook makes you widen your thighs and if you could have grabbed at his less than comfortnub-like ass to pull him in closer, faster, you would have. It's so _warm_. You can feel it advancing, every fiddlesticking grubleg width, getting deeper and deeper into you but at a much slower pace then you'd prefer. You have your legs free, and you bring them up, press your heels at the small of his back and press him in faster. If he's going slowly to try and let you adjust - you don't want that. You want it to burn. 

"Don't think I'm as weak as you, as your soft-skinned species," you murmur to him, and he growls in your ear. It's weak, but it's more than you've heard from any other human. He seems to take you up on your challenge, and then tries to do his damnedest to pail you through the floor. It's a little like when Jane had used the prosthetic, and nothing like. It's hot, it's alive and you can feel that in your nook. Every time he surges forward, it presses painfully against your seedflap, bruising your shameglobes.

Horrorterrors above and below, you want to tear him apart.

From the look in his eye, the way he clenches his teeth as he thrusts into you, he wants that too. His body moves over yours and you hold him to you with your thighs as he fucks you. Thrusts, like an animal, like the mammal he is. Nothing like the solid embrace of trolls, the way bulges squirmed and found their own way inside soft, pliable nooks. You whine through your clenched fangs as he takes your bulge in hand and uses that same too hard, too fierce grip to stroke you. Nothing like the circling gentle touch you or any other troll might have used, just stroking from base to tip like he would. To himself, you suppose and it's working - you don't want it to but it is and you twist your head and knock him silly with your intact horn as he stiffens and spills into you.

If you had thought he was burning you before, it's nothing to the way it feels when he spills his slurry inside you, triggering your own with a choked gasp at the sensation. It's not the same at all as when Jane orgasms. Nothing like it at all. None of this has been. Cold blue slurry floods out of you as you orgasm, from your bulge and your nook, and Dirk curses as he pulls out. You're both covered in it, from stomach to knee almost. Wheezing, you laugh at him, that disgusted look on his face. He's painted in your colour, and you don't think you'll see even a drop of his on you (compared to a troll, his release had been quite meagre). It's quite oddly, and disgustingly, satisfying.

"Problems, Strider?"

"Don't push me, or I swear by Artax's mane, I will leave you here. Just like this, covered like a sweaty smurf from the waist down and you can explain to the janitorial staff why they need to wash you up off the floor."

Your lips quirk a little, and you don't say anything else. For now. After all, you don't really want to be left here to be found when someone comes to find out why you didn't get on your return ship. You're leaving in the dawn - evening. Evening, as far as these diurnal mammals are concerned and gosh. Soon you won't have to think like that at all, you'll be back on a troll ship and you really. You really are just so tired of humans. Even if you are flushed out of your mind for one of them. You refuse to admit that any of the caliginous feelings in your pusher for another one of them is anything that will last.

It's just a fling.

In the aftermath, you board the patrol cruiser that will return you to the _Dire Absolutism_ and you think that the ache in your nook is more than enough reminder not to _ever_ contact to Dirk Strider again, let alone be in the same block as him. The regret is almost overwhelming. How did you let things get so out of control? That was. It had all been entirely - indecent. You regret having ever made the slightest move that had insinuated to Strider that you might possibly feel caliginous for him. You are not even entirely sure what you did. Events had in no way continued in a way that you had predicted from that one moment when you'd thrown him out of your workblock the first time you had met him face to face. That was a mistake, and when it had happened, things had just kept happening. You're far more guilty of improper behaviour than he - as though a human understands what black romance is.

You shake your head slightly, and step onto the deck of the small patrolboat, and you hope it is as quick as the one that got you here. Faster. You dearly hope it is faster, you need to jam with your moirail quite badly. Maybe she will help you to make sense of what's going on in your...head. Your pusher is in no way involved. You don't feel anything. You are more than well aware of where your duty lies. You have made such a terrible mistake, and you are relatively (absolutely) certain that your moirail is going to be _very_ disappointed in you.

Burning the orange wires feels very anticlimactic, in the end, when you do it in your quarters.

You don't feel nearly as cleansed and refreshed as you thought you would.

Not in the slightest.


	29. Chapter 29

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

TG: dirkie omg what did u DOOO  
TG: DIRK  
TT: Nothing. Absolutely fuckin nothing happened, and we're not talking about this thing that did not happen.  
TT: I want to be completely fucking crystal clear on the fact that nothing happened.  
TG: there's a blue stain in the labs that says otherwise man L O fuckin L  
TT: I don't want to talk about it, Roxy.  
TT: Besides, what does it matter? He's gone back to the Alternian research cruiser he calls home.  
TT: So long, goodbye, sayonara, bon fuckin voyage.  
TG: r u ok babe?  
TT: I'm fine.  
TT: I'm the very picture of emotional stability and resilience and you know it. It's not like a one day hook up is anything to put any importance to, or form any sort of attachment around.  
TT: It was fun. It's over.  
TT: That's all she wrote, and that had better be all she wrote. We don't need any more murders besides two unfortunate uniforms and one floor tile.  
TT: I'll talk to you later, Rox, I got a situation brewing here.  
TG: a sitch a brewin huh  
TG: i bet  
TG: is a sitch in your pants?????  
TT: I am not dignifying that with an answer.  
TT: Later, Lalonde.

timaeusTestified [TT] stopped pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TG: totes def a no pants situation dstridez, i am onto u  
TG: hmu when u wanna talk about shizz  
TG: keepin shit locked up tite is not healthy or ironic i don't care what ur hideous wreck of a guardian taught u and davey  
TG: its just dumb

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] stopped pestering timaeusTestified [TT]


	30. Chapter 30

arsenicCatnip [AC] began trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]

AC DDX < AAAAAARGH!  
TC: whoaaaa  
TC: :o0  
TC: CHILL IT, MY MOTHERFUCKING MATESIS  
TC: lay it on a righteous brother  
TC: WHAT'S UP AND GOT YOU ROARING THIS FINE NIGHT?  
AC :(( < my meowrail  
AC :33 < he went and pailed that strider human!  
TC: uh  
TC: BLACK QUADRANT RIGHT?  
AC DD: < uuurgh he wasnt meant to pail with any human except JAN333!  
AC :(( < mew do know that, right?  
TC: sugartits, i do know that  
TC: I PUT WAGER ON THAT IT'S JUST A FLING  
TC: nothing to get your fur all in a tizzy over  
AC XOO < its plenty fur me to get my fur in a tizzy over!  
AC :33 < ggggh  
AC :33 < i should know better  
TC: KNOW BETTER ON WHAT, MY FINE FLUSHED HUNTRESS?  
AC :33 < then to let him out of my sight!  
AC :33 < ugh its the worst idea  
AC :33 < hes so dumb sometimes  
TC: we'll sort it out  
TC: DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT IT, SWEET SISTER  
AC :33 < bluuurgh!  
AC :(( < i just want my meowrail back already  
TC: you'll have him soon present, i'm sure  
TC: BE CHILL  
AC :PP < that doesnt help as much as i think you think it does  
TC: motherfucker got to put some kind of effort in, don't he?  
TC: DON'T LIKE SEEING YOU SO UNRIGHTEOUS FRAZZLED  
AC :33 < its ok  
AC :33 < like you said hell be back soon  
AC :33 < he better be  
AC :33 < ok  
AC :33 < im ok  
TC: you sure of that, my pretty little fangface?  
AC :33 < yeah  
AC :33 < i think so  
AC :33 < alright!  
AC :33 < this is meowly a set back!!  
AC :33 < a minor one  
AC :33 < i can make this work  
AC :33 < we can work this out  
TC: THAT'S MY GIRL  
TC: let's fuck shit right up on this quadrant corner we got going  
TC: I'LL BE ON YOUR SHIP AT THE END OF PERIGEE. MY MOTHERFUCKING SOLEMN WORD ON IT.  
AC :33 < your cute ass is mine, you know  
TC: haha no it ain't  
AC :33 < youll never s33 me coming, gamz33 makara  
AC :33 < thats a purrmise  
TC: MMMHMM, GUESS WE'LL UP AND SEE.  
TC: look, a brother's got to make tracks...  
TC: CHURCH SHIT  
TC: see you soon, babycakes, got a real missing on for you.  
AC :33 < ok s33 you soon!  
AC :33 < <3  
TC: <3

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling terminallyCapricious [TC]


	31. Chapter 31

arachnidsGrip [AG] started trolling centaursTesticle [CT] 

AG: Oh Zahhak!!!!!!!!  
CT: D --> No

centaursTesticle [CT] has blocked  arachnidsGrip [AG]!

arachnidsGrip [AG]  has been unblocked!

AG: Ruuuuuuude! You could at least let me finish my sentence!  
AG: I have things to do that don't revolve around your duuuuuuuum8 sweaty ass, Zahhak.  
AG: All the irons are stuck deep in the fire, and you are the very smallest one.  
CT: D --> Whatever it is, no  
CT: D --> Acquiescing to your requests never ends well  
CT: D --> And despite all your best efforts so far, you can't make me do what you want  
CT: D --> So I am saying no in advance of your undoubtedly inconvenient request  
AG: Oh come oooooooon, horse8oy! It's only a teensy tiny little favour.  
AG: And it's not even for me!  
AG: Don't you want to help Aradia? Or is all that flushed stuff you spewed at her 8ack when we were wrigglers so much happy hoof8east shit?  
CT: D --> What  
AG: Now that got your attention!  
AG: I thought it would. You've always been easily led about by your pityglands.  
AG: Weaaaaaaaaak! ::::)  
AG: Remem8er when you made me promise not to feed your moirail to my lusus or you'd used my prosthetic arm to strangle me until I was 8100 all over? G88d times, g88d times.  
CT: D --> You are lying to me  
CT: D --> Aradia would never associate herself with you  
AG: Hahahahahahahaha!  
AG: :::;P  
AG: That's what you think!  
AG: Megido has always been very practical, even before I used Captor to drop a hivestem on her. 8esides, that's all in the past!  
AG: If she can move past it, I don't see why you can't. It's not like I ever really aimed any of my games at you. SO GET OVER IT!!!!!!!!  
AG: Now that you're listening, I'm going to be on your ship soon.  
AG: And you're going to do something for me!  
AG: And for Aradia, of course.  
CT: D --> What is it that you want  
AG: Much 8etter, sweaty, I like this new agreea8le side of you!  
AG: I like a little su8mission in the evenings, it just makes my night so much more enjoya8le!  
CT: D --> Hrk  
AG: Oh, not that kind of su8mission, not from you, Zahhak.  
AG: I know aaaaaaaall about your gr8ss hijinks but frankly, it's really not worth my time to make you squirm about it.  
AG: I have much more important things on my plate than you.  
CT: D --> You say that and yet here you are  
CT: D --> Manetaining a conversation with me  
CT: D --> Your smallest and least important iron  
AG: Ugh, you're really such a pain!  
AG: How does anyone put up with you, I don't even know.  
AG: So how's that human nook, Zahhak?  
CT: D --> If you ever mention Miss Crocker again in that tone  
CT: D --> Not only will I not assist you in whatever ridiculous endeavour you have in mind  
CT: D --> I will ensure that you are caught by the legislacerators immediately  
CT: D --> It has been insinuated in my hearing you have been acting in ways considered traitorous to the Empire  
CT: D --> Even if not yet to the point where you have been declared officially as a traitor  
CT: D --> I am sure that they would be interested in your whereabouts nonetheless  
AG: Touchy!  
AG: Just 8ecause some loooooooosers can't deal with how I like to do things, or the fact that I o8viously know what I'm doing, is no reason to pay attention to trifling things like rumours of secret warrants that may or may not exist.  
AG: You don't want to 8e a loser, do you, Zahhak?  
CT: D --> I am not Nitram, or any other well meaning troll you've managed to delude over your sweeps of e%istence. I know e%actly what sort of selfish creature you are  
CT: D --> Your high opinion means less than nothing to me, as does the opinion of anyone you c001d possibly consider important enough to sway yours  
CT: D --> You can not manipulate me that way, Serket. I don't care if you never speak to me again, and in fact I w001d prefer it  
CT: D --> What do you want  
AG: You're really irritating to me, you know that? So 8100, so stoic.  
AG: I'll be contacting you again in a few nights. Keep an eye out, Zahhak.  
AG: You 8etter be ready to do what I tell you to do. Don't worry, I swear it's nothing that's going to make you feel like you've compromised your loyalty to the stupid Empire.  
AG: So long, chump!  
AG: ;;;;)

arachnidsGrip [AG] stopped trolling centaursTesticle [CT] 

CT: D --> Bother

centaursTesticle [CT] is offline!


	32. Chapter 32

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: ur sad hes gone admit it  
TT: Uh, negative. I am a meat popsicle. A meat popsicle does not have feelings.  
TG: dont u start quoting ancient scifi memes @ me dude  
TG: i kno all the memes  
TG: i own the memes  
TG: i am the MEME QUEEN  
TG: bt suriously  
TG: dirk  
TG: u kno its ok to be sad rite  
TT: Why the heck would I be sad that a security leak has just left our ship?  
TT: Not that it makes him any less of a leak, considering the type of intel I'm sure Jane shares with him without thinking twice about it. At least she talks less with the clown. More hitting.  
TG: mmmm when u gonna stop lying  
TG: you lyin  
TG: stop fuckn lying  
TT: Roxy, I love you. You're a good person, a good friend and I appreciate what you think you're trying to do.  
TT: But seriously, go fuck yourself.  
TG: i can c when im not wanted  
TG: call me, bb  
TG: when ur unsure and alone, u can call on me  
TT: Right. Sure. When I think I've lost my mind, I'll make sure to ask you for advice, romantic or otherwise. Now can I get back to work?  
TG: u want to be an asshole?  
TG: be an asshole by ur own fuckin self, man, hmu when ur over bein an asshole  
TG: ur allowed to haev feelins u immature fuckwit

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] stopped pestering timaeusTestified [TT]


End file.
